


An Ex-Mafia's Guide to Being a Househusband

by sugarsubstitute



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Domestic Fluff, Ex-Mafia Victor Nikiforov, Househusband Victor Nikiforov, Love Hotels, M/M, Mafia AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Russian Mafia, Teacher Katsuki Yuuri, this is basically a 'the way of the househusband' AU, yuuri is makkachin's owner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-06-18 20:11:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 39,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15493755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarsubstitute/pseuds/sugarsubstitute
Summary: In which Victor leaves behind an existence of underground crime in a world of hatred and death in order dedicate himself to supporting his hard-working boyfriend, and discovers Yuuri's world of love and life by discovering what it means to love and to live.





	1. Peaceful Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunshineandsolace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineandsolace/gifts).



At five AM, Victor’s internal clock jerked him from his wonderful dream, and his peaceful everyday began. The orange rays of light peeked through the crack in the curtains, warming his body and brushing his face with a beam not bright enough to be an eyesore, but enough to tell him that the morning was waning - there were tasks that had to be undertaken.

Pulling his upper body from the cozy mattress, Victor stretched his arms above his head, letting out a strained groan as quietly as he could muster so as to not rouse his boyfriend, whose mind was still sunk deep in dreamland.

A small smile spread across his cheeks, sparing a few seconds in his schedule to watch over him. 

The man’s fringe was frayed across his forehead, with the rest of his black bed hair flowered against his pillows. Blissfully, his eyelashes had fluttered his eyes closed, gracefully grazing his rounded cheeks that had dusted over in pink. Yuuri’s breath made his chest rise up and down softly, finding tranquility in that moment as if nothing in the world was troubling. 

It made Victor’s heart skip a beat - Yuuri was having a good dream.

 

After parting some of his boyfriend’s bangs to kiss his forehead, Victor whispered his ‘good mornings’ before swinging his legs off the bed and getting up to seize the day ahead.

One thing that he’s always kept consistent was the upkeep of his body – in no way was he above a sliver of vanity. So, he dedicated an hour to primping his body. Showering with all the wonderfully lucrative body washes he could find (the kinds that didn’t need to market themselves with bright colours and idols in TV advertisements gasping and saying _‘SUGOI’_ , whatever that meant - all they needed to do was have sleek bottles and their brand in gold lettering and Victor would be loading the shopping basket); lathering his face with all the skincare products that he had to keep in a side drawer or else Yuuri would complain that he took up all the space and wouldn’t even leave enough for a toothbrush holder, assuring that his face was pure enough to look like the smooth finish of one of those strange-looking aneemos (or _an-ee-may_ , as Yuuri would say) that he would see flash across the television and in stores every now and then.

 

Feeling refreshed, haven gotten all the sleep from his eyes, Victor would then go about choosing an outfit. He wanted to look good for Yuuri, of course, as he knew himself that he looked good in everything he owned – the only real critic was his boyfriend. 

He threw open the wardrobe. Hmm. He always filled out that shirt… oh, but Yuuri looked at him in _that_ blazer for 0.5 seconds longer than when he wore this _other_ one… yes, but that doesn’t go with the shoes that Yuuri had once commented on, saying that ‘they look cool’ – _cool!_

Needless to say, getting dressed was a little bit of an issue. Eventually, Victor fitted himself into one of his casual ‘dress-to-impress-but-I’m-only-doing-paperwork’ suits, standing in front of the mirror and pressing out the creases, twisting his body in the mirror until he was satisfied. He used the reflection to glance back at Yuuri, still soundly asleep. Good, he didn’t waste too much time after all; he still had roughly an hour or so to prepare his food.

 

The latex of the gloves slid over his hands as if they were another layer of skin, settling over his flesh like it were tailor fit. He snapped the ends of them against his wrists.

He hated making a mess of this.

Yuuri’s kitchen knives were very newly sharpened, he could thank Victor for his skills, sharpening them to the perfect edge – they could slice through fingertips like tissue paper the way they were at the moment.

He quickly began preparing Yuuri’s lunch, which had become easy enough to do given the amount of practice (and lessons) he had. Now, he’s at least able to make something edible for Yuuri to take to his work with him. 

 

Really, it didn’t matter how good it tasted; what mattered was how it looked. 

All their housewife neighbours had told him, with Yuuri as the translator, that one could spend hours making their lunches presentable. They did all kinds of things – sesame seeds as eyes on sausages cut up like octopuses, making shapes out of rice balls, faces out of seaweed strips – all to be scoffed down by greedy husbands! It was a big deal though, especially if you want to make sure your spouse had the prettiest, most nutritious lunch out of anyone; doing so was the chef’s way of showing that they had the most love for their spouse. 

And so, naturally, Victor was determined to leave them all in his dust and give his Yuuri a lunch box that would make all the other lunch boxes cry – that’s how good Victor needed to make it.

Yuuri, the darling, told Victor ‘not to get competitive’ and that he was ‘fine with leftovers’ – ha! As if Victor would let Yuuri settle for measly leftovers. Instead, Victor dreamed of Yuuri opening his lunch box at work and saying ‘wow! Victor’s so loving and caring, he’s the best! I love him so much!’ and eating it with a smile; such thoughts made Victor melt into a puddle. 

Today was no exception. Yuuri’s lunch box had to be the best.

 

An hour or so later, Yuuri’s feet were padding across the hall, and Victor made a final hustle around the kitchen table, making sure everything was just perfect before he came in. 

As soon as his head poked through the door, Victor rushed over to him. “Good morning, my love!” Victor beamed, pecking Yuuri’s cheek and getting a flustered hum in response.

“Morning, Victor.” Yuuri smiled. “You’re upbeat.”

“I’m always upbeat!” 

Yuuri chuckled, thumbing Victor’s cheek with a shimmer in his eyes and a glow on his cheeks that made Victor want to leap on him and beg him not to leave him for the day. 

“I…” Victor searched for the words he had been practicing in his mind since he had started fiddling with the settings on the rice cooker. “I made you breakfast!” he piped up again, guiding Yuuri towards the table.

He watched as Yuuri’s eyes dazzled behind his glasses when he saw what Victor made. “Ah, Victor, that’s so nice of you. Did you wake up early for this?”

“Ha-ha, a little?” Victor bit his tongue playfully.

“Victorrr.” Yuuri tutted, leaning up to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. “You don’t have to do all this for me…”

“I do…” Victor replied immediately, wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist. “Always.”

 

They stood together in each other’s embrace for a while, before Victor perked up.

“Oh! Yuuri - you must eat!” 

“Oh, yes, right…” Yuuri nodded, sitting at his place on the table. “Wow, there’s a lot today.”

Victor took the seat opposite, “well, you said your students are having that test – I wanted to make sure you had plenty of energy!”

 

Yuuri, haven quickly put a mouthful of rice in his mouth, paused chewing and froze in time.

“…Darling? Is something wrong?” Victor furrowed his brow, his mind quickly coming to the summation that he’d done something wrong with the food and that he would have to throw himself out of the window to make up for it.

“…Victor, what did you say?” Yuuri asked, single grains of rice dropping from his mouth.

Victor, about to get out of his chair and open the window, thought back amongst the bombardment of self-deprecation to what he had said prior. “Um… I wanted you to make sure you had plenty of energy?” 

Yuuri shook his head. “No, no – before that.”

“…Your students are having a test?”

At that, Yuuri quickly twisted his wrist to check his watch, before letting out a yelp and shooting up from his desk, fumbling around with his work bags. 

 

“Yuuri!?” Victor fretted.

Yuuri was slinging his bags across his shoulders. “I completely forgot! I completely forgot about the tests! Oh no, they all come in early – I have to be in early!” he rambled, getting up from his chair, nearly knocking it to the ground if not for Victor catching it in his haste to chase after Yuuri’s frenzy.

“Here, darling!” Victor was already locating Yuuri’s jacket, darting from the coat rack and assisting Yuuri, who stabbed his hands aimlessly through the arms. 

“I can’t believe I forgot…” he muttered to himself.

Turning Yuuri to face him, Victor straightened out his tie and brushed his shoulders, before kissing his temple. “You have a lot on your mind… you already have so much responsibility.” Victor soothed.

Giving Victor a thankful smile, warm brown eyes still reddened with sleep, Yuuri nodded. “It’s a good thing I have you to remind me.” 

Victor felt like he had been shot through the heart (a familiar feeling), and so his mind went blank as he mindlessly continued to chase Yuuri out of the door and into the morning.

 

“Have a great day, my love – I’ll be waiting for you!” Victor beamed, heart sighing as Yuuri smiled gently at him.

Yuuri waved, his cheeks dimpling as he hurried across the landing, fading from sight.

Victor watched until he was entirely gone from sight before he closed the door. He felt like sinking against it, hand on heart, legs giving way, but he had to pull himself together and clear up from breakfast.

 

Well, they barely made a dent in that day’s breakfast – that was okay though, it wasn’t too different from how every day went; and as he cleared up the leftover rice, omelette, fruit, and meat, he smiled at how at least Yuuri would be even more appreciative of his lu--

Victor whipped his head to see Yuuri’s lunch box lying on the counter.

…oh no.

 

Victor strapped himself into his car and strapped Yuuri’s lunch in the passenger seat next to him. Today’s lunch was perfect, as if he was going to let it rot in that kitchen when it could be lovingly enjoyed by his beloved; like hell he was going to let his forgetfulness ruin his fantasies of Yuuri eating his cooking!

After twisting the key, Victor quickly shifted into gear and pulled out of the accommodation’s car park. 

 

Yuuri, practically flying off his bike as soon as the school building came into sight, almost fell off in shock as Victor was waiting there, his car parked recklessly on the path.

“Victor!” Yuuri yelped, his handlebars zigzagging around as he momentarily lost control. Grinding his feet on the ground, he came to a stop, as he knew trying to continue riding that bike would end up with him having a face full of tarmac. Instead, he gripped onto the handlebars and pushed it over to Victor, who noticed him and started waving his arm enthusiastically.

“Yuuri! I’m over here!” Victor beamed.

Students, some having to look up from their textbooks (last minute cramming), stared wide-eyed at the flashy car slap-bang in the middle of their walkway, and the gorgeous-looking man wearing a suit and apron leaning against it.

Yuuri’s breath heaved. “What are you doing here? Why are you parked on the path, you’re blocking the w- – wh-what _happened!?_ ”

“You forgot your lunch!” Victor explained, holding up the tiered bento box by the handle he fashioned from a heart-patterned handkerchief. 

Hunched over the handles of his bike, Yuuri let out a sigh. Of course... “Oh…”

Victor pouted. “What? Do you not like my lunches?”

Shaking his head, Yuuri straightened his back. “No, no. I’m just glad you didn’t rush over here because our apartment was on fire, or that you were hurt in some way.” 

Victor stopped pouting, his eyes wide and sparkling. “You were worried about me?”

“Well, of course… and you drove up on the pavement – that’s illegal, you know…”

Victor’s face then went red, and he fumbled around with the bento before shoving it into Yuuri’s arms. 

 

Yuuri looked the bento over. He then looked up at Victor again, who was watching him carefully.

He smiled. “Thank you for going out of your way to bring it to me, Victor.”

Victor watched him more.

Yuuri couldn’t be too affectionate, not out of some pride complex, but because he was fully aware of hundreds of eyes – his students – who were now watching their exchange and were able to understand parts of it due to their English examination that day. So, instead, Yuuri reached out and patted Victor’s head. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious, like always.”

Victor beamed, his face lighting up with the same voltage as a billion flashing light-bulbs. “Yuuri…”

Yuuri felt his heart catch, but then, like being pulled from a dream, he checked his watch. “Sorry, Victor, but I really have to go now.”

Eyes misty and cheeks tinted pink, Victor slowly nodded. “I’ll be waiting for you, my love.”

Seeing Victor like that made Yuuri really want to kiss him, but it just would be unprofessional to do so in front of so many students. So, he settled for something that could only be understood by the two of them.

“I’ll come running, Victor.”

 

Victor felt like he could pass out, his heart beating a million-per-second, ready to burst from his chest as he practically melted in the driver’s seat of his car. He wondered if he ever woke up that morning.

He’d get moving in a moment, as he knew the police would be patrolling this road in a few minutes. 

But, for a moment, he just wanted to catch his breath.

 

Wow. So this was the life of a househusband.


	2. Scrub, scrub, scrub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor scrubs the floors in hopes of dazzling Yuuri with his cleaning skills.

It was midday and after washing the dishes, taking Makkachin out for a walk, airing out the futons and taking down the washing, Victor was finally able to release his breath after he finished scrubbing the floors.

He threw his rag back in the bucket and stretched out his fingers until they resounded with a satisfying crack, groaning quietly. Glancing over his hands, he saw that they were red and sore where he’d been gripping onto the rough material. 

It stung a little. 

If Yuuri were here, Victor wondered, he would probably scold him. ‘You don’t need to overdo it, Victor – it’s just the floors, besides, I got you that mop with the sponge-thing so you didn’t have to hunch over a bucket and rag like Cinderella!’, he’d probably say; Victor didn’t know who ‘Cinderella’ was, but Yuuri insisted she wasn’t a rival, so he didn’t really need to know either. 

Victor frowned at the thought of the Swiffer, collecting dust in the cupboard. He did try to use that thing, he really did, but it ended up making cleaning the floors take even longer; he felt bad about never using it, since Yuuri went out of his way to think of him and buy it, after all; but… 

Even if you use something like a Swiffer mop, Victor believed that you never knew if you’ve gotten every trace until you scrub it down yourself - it’s something he picked up over the years. Sure, it looks clean enough, but when you got down and combed it over, or shone a black light over it, you can see little splatters all over. A spill of juice, a smear of curry – all forgotten until it’s glowing in your face and suddenly it’s all over. 

He’d always been warned of the consequence of not cleaning up properly. 

The only way he could trust that it was clean was through his own hand, and, _wow!_ Just look at the results! All around him was a clean shine of brown wood, and he was very tempted to just stay tucked up in a ball on the floor, so he didn’t have to stand up and ruin the floors as they sparkled before his eyes. 

He’d always been good at cleaning up the messes.

 

Oh, Victor wondered how Yuuri would react to his efforts. 

He’d probably walk in, eyes going wide in wonderment as he saw how spotless their apartment – _their_ apartment – was.

‘Victor, did you clean this whole place - all by yourself?’ he would gasp in disbelief.

Then, Victor would follow Yuuri’s eyes, and react as if he’d only just realized its perfection that second. ‘Oh, you mean the light cleaning?’ he’d say nonchalantly. 

Yuuri would let his bags fall from his arms, and he’d ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at how shiny and pure everything looked. ‘Victor, it looks brand new!’ 

Waving off his beloved’s praise, Victor would hum pleasantly. ‘Darling, surely you’re teasing me.’

‘Not at all!’ Yuuri would then wrap his arms around his waist, grinning at him with love-glazed eyes. ‘Victor, you’re amazing.’

‘I do it all for you, Yuuri…’ Victor would beam.

At that, Yuuri’s eyebrow would raise. ‘Well, it looks like I have to make it up to you.’ He’d smirk (oh, what a day it would be if Victor ever got to see Yuuri smirk!), and then he’d lean up, and, a-and—

Victor was sunk on his back on the floor, eyes blown up in bliss. He chuckled to himself, holding his fingers to his lips – ah, how wonderful that would be.

 

He was taken out of his daze, however, when he felt the slimy slobber of a long tongue on his cheek. 

“Makkachin!” Victor laughed, shifting to his knees to scratch behind the dog’s ears. “Sneaking up behind me, now? Who’s a good puppy? _You_ are! Да, да!”

The dog was practically vibrating with glee, pawing at Victor’s knees and lolling his tongue down past his jaw. 

Victor smiled. Such a pure soul - like his owner, he noted. Apart from humans and food, he was completely unaware of almost everything— wait… 

His eyes widened and looked around the kitchen.

 

The floor, once clean and polished, had a trail of dirt in Makka-shapes. It was then Victor realised that in his rush to begin cleaning, he had forgotten to bathe the dog after their walk. 

Makkachin had been given free-reign to the apartment while he scrubbed each inch of the floor, so adamant in his skills that he believed that he wouldn’t need to check the room over before moving onto the next.

Victor gaped at Makkachin. Makkachin licked his nose, tail happily wagging to-and-fro.

Yuuri was due to come home in thirty minutes.

 

It was not often that Victor was forced to conduct such a thorough clean-up in so tight a window – but, of course, it was nothing a humble homemaker like him couldn’t handle.

He stood in the middle of the kitchen again, hands stinging and shaking, with a smile on his face. 

Of course, he managed to complete his task. Yuuri would be so pleased.

 

As if on cue, the door handle rattled.

“I’m home, Victor!” Yuuri chimed, ushering himself inside. Makkachin, with a yip, pattered his (now thoroughly clean) paws down the hall – Victor was quicker, though.

“Darling!” Victor beamed, pouncing on his boyfriend as if from nowhere, tackling him in a tight hug as Yuuri was in the middle of toeing off his outdoor shoes. “Welcome home.”

“V-victor, my shoes—”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t waiting by the door, I was compromised!” Victor blurted.

“Compromised?” Yuuri furrowed his brow.

“Come see!” Victor urged, tugging on Yuuri’s hand.

“ _Cho_ —w-wait – my shoes!” Yuuri fumbled, managing to kick his other shoe off before Victor hustled them both into the kitchen. 

“Look, look.” Victor pointed out.

Yuuri was frowning for a moment. “Victor, I don’t have my slippers, wha—woah.” He then widened his eyes as he begun looking around.

Victor watched him, knuckles clasped together.

 

Shuffling around in his socks, Yuuri turned a full 360° as he gazed around the kitchen. “It’s so _clean_ …”

Victor’s heart skipped a beat, and when Yuuri’s eyes met his again, with his cheeks dimpled, he felt like it would combust. He held his breath, waiting for Yuuri’s approval.

“Did you do all this by yourself—”

“Yes.” Victor nodded vigorously.

Yuuri’s eyes widened all over again. “Victor,” he said, looking around again before his smile beamed at him. “It looks brand new.”

With that, Victor felt like he could die. “Oh, Darling!” he cried, leaping into Yuuri’s arms, the both of them stumbling around the tiled floor.

“V-Victor…!” Yuuri tried to steady the both of them through flustered cheeks as Victor kissed at his face.

 

“I’m so pleased…” Victor beamed, bringing his hands to stroke his thumb across Yuuri’s glowing cheeks.

Yuuri smiled. “Victor…”

Kissing Yuuri’s temple, Victor mumbled against his skin: “…did you like your lunch?”

“…eh?” 

Victor put some distance between their bodies. “Your lunch. Did you eat it all?”

Yuuri blinked, confused until he realised what Victor was asking and let his lips form an ‘o’ shape. “Oh, my lunch. Yes, Victor, it was good – as always.”

Good! Victor was going to _melt._ “Good? Was it… um… _oi-ee-shee?_ ” Victor squinted.

Chuckling, Yuuri nodded up at him. “Yep.”

 

“And my cleaning!” Victor followed up enthusiastically, bouncing on toes. “Was it _oi-ee-shee?_ ”

Silence for a few seconds, and then… Yuuri laughed, leaning his forehead into Victor’s chest, his shoulders shaking.

Any instance where Yuuri laughed was instantly a treasured memory which he sealed in golden envelopes and delicately filed into his mind, but Victor was able to interrupt his adoration long enough to huff at Yuuri’s response. “You’re laughing at me…”

“No, no… Vic… Victor, it’s not like that.” Yuuri denied, shaking his head, all while still seizing with laughter. He managed to compose himself enough to explain. “Victor, that expression isn’t used to describe cleaning…”

Victor widened his eyes in realization (and relief), also forming an ‘o’ shape with his lips. “Oh…” he flushed - note to self, Victor brooded, learn more Japanese so you don’t humiliate yourself again when trying to impress Yuuri. 

 

“What about…” Victor tried again, “ _su-goi?_ ”

“Yep!” Yuuri nodded. “That’s what I would use to describe it.”

“Aha!” Victor sparkled, “my cleaning is _su-goi!_ ” 

Yuuri laughed again, but Victor was sure it was with him this time; and so Victor couldn’t help but capture his love again in a shower of kisses in a fit of infatuation in seeing Yuuri’s happiness – and Yuuri was like that because of him.

“Ah! Victor, ticklish!” 

“How unfortunate.” Victor teased, pecking at Yuuri’s jaw. “Mhm, you’re so cute - I could eat you right up—"

 

Victor’s lips were still against Yuuri’s flesh. One second, two seconds, three… Yuuri couldn’t even feel his breath.

“V-victor, what’s wrong?” Yuuri leaned away, holding his face in his hands. Frozen. “Victor..!?”

“I forgot to make dinner…” Victor uttered.

“Dinner?” Yuuri furrowed his brow.

Victor shook his head. “You’ve come home after _hours_ of hard work, and I can’t even remember the simple task of—”

“That’s okay.” Yuuri cut in.

“No, it’s--”

“I said, that’s okay.” Yuuri confirmed. “We can go out to eat, or get something to bring home.”

“B-but…!” Victor fretted.

 

“You don’t have to cook a hot meal for me _every_ night, and besides, I know you’ve worked very hard today too.” 

Victor’s eyes blew up as Yuuri beamed up at him. “Yuuri…”

“You worked hard today, Victor.” Yuuri nodded.

 

It was as if Victor’s heart had leapt up and caught itself in his throat, he could barely reply. Instead, he nodded in compliance. 

“We'll change into something comfortable, and then we’ll find a nice restaurant – anywhere you like. Okay?”

He didn’t deserve a meal out, much less get to choose where to go. Yuuri, who was so perfect and so… everything -- he deserved it. And yet…

As Yuuri smiled so gently at him, he was struck with the familiar sense of integrity. Yuuri, the lamb, truly believed. He has always been like this – and Victor has not yet been able to tell whether the quality was good for him to have. And yet, if he didn’t have it…

 _Oh,_ Yuuri was so wonderful.

It was due to Yuuri’s words (and maybe his own rumbling stomach), that Victor was able to nod again.

“Okay.” Victor beamed.

He then held his hands behind his back, so Yuuri couldn't see them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter, but I'll try and make up for that in the future! ☆ Also may be making some small edits, if I see anything that looks strange or incorrect.
> 
> Hopefully now you can see what's lurking around in the dark here... :)
> 
> Any questions about this or any chapter, I'll do my best to answer them - and if anyone has any ideas for chapters feel free to comment them! ☆
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!~ ☆☆


	3. Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor learns some Japanese phrases to welcome Yuuri home with!

“ _Kon… ee…chee… wah._ ” Victor sounded out, eyes squinted at the smiley lady pointing at each syllable of the word edited to appear in front of her.

“ _Good job!_ ” the lady in the video said, and Victor smiled triumphantly. “ _Now that you know ‘ **こんにちは** ’, hello, let’s try and say ‘goodbye’!_”

Victor skipped ahead.

 

“ _When you’re visiting Japan, you’ll often find yourself asking locals for directions. To do this, you’ll want to get someone’s attention by saying: ‘ **すみません** ’, meaning ‘excuse me’. Let’s try it!_”

“Okay!” Victor beamed.

“ _Repeat after me: su-mi-ma-sen. Now you!_ ”

“ _Sue-me…mah-senn._ ” 

“ _Good job!_ ” the lady in the video smiled.

“Good job!” Victor repeated, clapping his hands together.

 

Since Victor hadn’t needed to make dinner the night before, the kitchen was clean enough for him to only need to give it a light wipe-down before it was up to standard. After that was done, he had bountiful time to do whatever he wished. 

His first impulse was obviously to go to Yuuri, but he was still at work; and as he had no phone to text Yuuri, he would only be able to call him on the landline – but what if he interrupted something important by doing that? For all Victor knew, Yuuri could be in the middle of a lesson; and the worst thing he could do at the moment was call him for no reason other than to… hear him.

Victor quickly realised he had to busy himself with something else instead.

 

Then he had thought to a recent self-notice he had plastered to the pinboard of his mind to mark its importance – he needed to learn Japanese. 

Technically, he didn’t _need_ to know Japanese – Yuuri was perfectly capable of understanding him with his perfect English skills; and often acted as Victor’s translator when he needed him. Victor felt no qualms being reliant on Yuuri, but still he couldn’t help but wonder… did Yuuri feel the same? 

Yuuri basically had to do everything for Victor, and everything he doesn’t do he had to _teach_ Victor to do. It must’ve troubled Yuuri to no end – all the things Yuuri did for him. 

There was nothing Victor could do to make up for that.

 

Victor had begun looking at his hands, clenching and un-clenching (they didn’t hurt as bad that day).

Yuuri had done so much...

 

With a rush up his neck, Victor grounded himself again and whipped his head up to the laptop screen. 

The video had ended.

 

Victor was face-to-face with Makkachin.

“ _Kon-ee-chi-wa._ ” Victor said, to which Makkachin perked up and swished his tail. “ _Kon-ee-chi-wa!_ ” he repeated with a grin.

The dog licked his nose, waiting for more responses.

“Umm… let’s see…” he put a finger to his lip, scouring for words to test out. “Aha!” he grinned, then pointed to Makkachin. “ _Ee-nu!_ You’re an _ee-nu_. An _ee ee-nu!_ ”

At that, the dog’s body vibrated with joy, leaping at Victor’s lap and licking at his cheek.

Victor laughed, scratching at Makkachin’s fur. Japanese wasn’t so hard after all!

 

‘ _what do you call the love your life in Japanese? thank you_ ’ he typed into the little internet answering machine.

He frowned when nothing useful immediately came up (he said ‘thank you’ and everything!), until a link to a ‘Japanese terms of endearment’ list appeared. He instantly clicked on it.

According to it, a lot of wives referred to their husbands as ‘ _anata_ ’, which was another way of saying ‘you’, but translated like ‘darling’. Aha! That was something Victor could use, easily!

However, a lot of other examples were English phrases like ‘honey’ – all of which he already used regularly. He couldn’t even go a few minutes in his presence before he started firing off the pet names in order to draw a bashful Yuuri’s attention. Ah, if had that much of an embarrassed reaction to English endearments, imagine how great it would be if Victor could say them in Yuuri’s native language!?

As few answers came up from his search, Victor pouted. Did he search for the wrong thing?

‘ _What are ways to show your undying love to the japanese love of your life? thank you_ ’ he next typed.

No results appeared. Victor’s frown deepened. 

A few more searches, then. There must be _something…_

 

“ _Anne-ah-ta…_ ” Victor muttered to himself. “ _Anne…ah-ta._ ”

Sitting in this position, his feet tucked under his behind, with all his weight on his legs, was starting to take its toll. He reckoned that within the next few minutes all feeling would drain from his calves, leaving a throbbing redness in his feet, and then they’d go too. Trying to get up from that point would result in him falling flat on his face and possibly getting the nice, clean carpet...

No, he shook his head – it only served to hold him back, thinking about any of that, as right now he needed to get this right, and, for Yuuri's sake, he could easily sacrifice the measly loss of feeling in a limb or two in order to keep his focus. 

Yes… focus…

“ _Anne-ah-ta…_ ” he said, shifting around. “ _oh-kai-rin-nah-sai._ ”

He looked up.

“Was that… _su-goi?_ Or… is it _oi-ee-she_ instead?”

Makkachin blinked at him, before moving forward and using his paw to pad at Victor’s collarbone.

Victor sighed, falling backwards until he thudded against the floor. Japanese was impossible.

 

Dinner was even more complicated than breakfast, Victor had found. For one, there was a lot more to cook, all having different timings and rules of their own; and secondly, Victor could never be sure when was the right time to begin cooking, as since Yuuri was a teacher his schedule could vary from day-to-day. Yuuri told him that sometimes he’d have to stay behind to tutor a student, or complete some marking, or even be a chaperone to students in after-school clubs; and since it was exam season at his school, he could even be home hours after he usually would be in order to give extra lessons to his students. 

Victor was proud of Yuuri for having such dedication (who wouldn’t be when you had someone as amazing as him as a boyfriend!?); and, _oh_ , Victor’s heart would swell whenever Yuuri would apologise for coming home late – because _of course_ Victor wanted to tell Yuuri to come home early, or even stop going to work and staying with him, but he’d never do it, he could never ask that much of him. Yes, Victor was so proud of him, so completely infatuated with everything he did, and yet… 

He couldn’t help but feel the shaking of his bones whenever it got dark and he still wasn’t home.

"Oh." Victor’s hand jolted away from contact with the hot stove. Focus…

 

Right, right. Everything… everything was cooking at the rates Victor anticipated, the rice was clean and ready to cook – it all should be ready a little after Yuuri came home, with him having called Victor around an hour ago telling him the time he’d arrive.

Oh, Victor was so excited! Imagine the look on Yuuri’s face! He couldn’t stop thinking about it, leaning over the counter and whispering his line over and over to himself, as he had been doing for the past few hours. 

“ _An-ah-ta, oh-kai-rin-nah-sai…_ ” he beamed.

 

Hopefully he’d get it right when Yuuri came through the door. Or, maybe he'd forget to say it? Seeing Yuuri after so many hours apart did tend to render Victor’s brain to mush, even thinking about Yuuri… oh no, what if he _did_ forget! Wait a second…

“An… An… An-ah…” 

He couldn’t remember… no, no – he _just_ said it! It was… 

“An… An…” he tried.

What was it!? He… he forgot. He _forgot!_

How could he forget… oh, Yuuri would be so disappointed in him… That was a face Victor would never want to imagine, not even in his darkest nightmares.

Victor was going to have to climb into the microwave oven, or crash out through the window to make up for it. The oven would be a tight squeeze, but Victor was sure that his undying will would let him pull it off, but then again the window…

 

_Rattle, rattle._

Oh no, Yuuri was home! The rice, Victor had to put the rice on! But he had to meet Yuuri at the door to… to…

 

Victor was dashing to the door, skidding over the floor as he raced to get there before the door opened.

The door creaked open.

“Victor, I’m—”

 

“ _An-ah-ta!_ ” Victor blurted, the words bursting from his brain without even thinking. “ _Oh-kai-rin-nah-sai…_ ” he followed, his breath cutting off. 

Yuuri stared at him, eyes wide. His bag dropped by his feet.

 

“I…” Victor stopped. A hot flush rushed over his body. “…Did I not say it right?”

Yuuri smiled, shaking his head. “No, no Victor... you said it just great."

Victor's breath hitched, his hands stretching his apron.

"But, next time, you should wait for me to say ‘ **ただいま** ’ first.” 

“Oh…” Victor breathed out, his heart filling with pride at Yuuri’s praise. “ _Oh…!_ ”

 

Toeing his shoes off, Yuuri shimmied into his slippers before stepping into Victor’s arms. “You’re learning Japanese now?”

Victor nodded. “I’ve been practising all afternoon.”

“Eh? _Really?_ ” Yuuri raised his eyebrows, making Victor flutter with how surprised and interested he was.

“Yes! I can say all kinds of things now.” Victor beamed, feeling very proud of himself right then, as Yuuri seemed to be proud of him. 

“Your hard work paid off, then.” Yuuri complimented.

An arrow shot through Victor’s heart, sending warm shivers up his neck. “Oh _Yuuri…_ ” he sighed dreamily. He could die right then and be content with everything. Yuuri was so _wonderful_.

Kissing Yuuri’s cheek, Victor reveled in the embarrassed noises Yuuri made. 

 

“Victor…” he whined, before showing no reaction to his affection. “Eh?”

“Yuuri?”

“…What’s that smell?”

Silence, until something clicked in Victor’s mind.

 

“ _Goh-men-nai-sai…_ ” Victor muttered over the overcooked rice and blackened salmon. “I’ll go put myself in the microwave oven…”

“Victor, _no!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Victor's pronunciation is actually supposed to be pretty bad here, but he's trying his best. After all, he does have to translate from Russian to English, then from English to Japanese; and then the reverse.  
> Here are the translations of Victor's valiant attempts (hopefully I got them right, feel free to correct me!):
> 
> " _Kon… ee…chee… wah_ " - konnichiwa - **こんにちは** : Hello  
> " _Sue-me…mah-senn_ " - sumimasen - **すみません** : excuse me  
> " _Ee-nu_ " - Inu - **犬** : dog (very important terminology)  
> " _ee ee-nu_ " - Ī inu - **いい犬** : good dog (even more important)  
> " _Anne-ah-ta…_ " - anata - **あなた** : you (but translates similarly to 'darling')  
> " _su-goi_ " - sugoi - **すごい** : amazing  
> " _oi-ee-she_ " - oishi - **美味し** : delicious  
> " _An-ah-ta... Oh-kai-rin-nah-sai_ " - anata... okaerinasai - **おかえりなさい** : (should translate like) welcome home, darling  
> " _Goh-men-nai-sai…_ " - gomenaisai - **ごめんなさい** \- I'm sorry
> 
> As for what Yuuri says: " **ただいま** " - I'm home
> 
> This chapter is also pretty short ^^'' I can see that this chapter could've been **a lot** better, but my brain is fried at the moment - I'll make sure to try harder in the next chapter. I may even make some edits later on. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! :)


	4. Value

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor goes shopping, and Yuuri comes along to help. As always, Victor finds himself feeling grateful.

“You didn’t have to come with me, my darling.” Victor said again. 

“I know I didn’t have to – I just wanted to.” Yuuri smiled, seeming to never get irritated with reassuring him (he’s so wonderful). “Besides, you might need me to read labels.”

Victor’s cheeks bloomed. He did like that idea: him struggling to decipher the characters on a box, becoming startled as Yuuri brushed against his back and poked his head close to effortlessly read and translate for him. 

Sighing, Victor conceded. “That sounds wonderful.”

 

Victor found it cute how the doors of the supermarket made a jingle when they opened. 

“ **いらっしゃいませ!** ” Victor heard from a lady with a pale blue-coloured bandanna positioned at the till.

“What does that mean, Yuuri?” he asked as they retrieved a shopping trolley.

“It’s them saying _‘welcome to the store’._ ”

“Oh, how nice!” Victor beamed. Japan was so kind to people like him.

Yuuri hummed. “What do we need first?”

 

Pulling a folded list from his apron’s pocket, Victor read out his handwriting; he had taken stock of their current inventory beforehand - there was no need to waste their budget on needless expenses. 

“Beansprouts.” 

They wheeled their trolley over to the huge walls of fresh vegetables on either side of the aisle. One thing Victor noticed about Japan was that they seemed to actually value their healthy foods – he was always cooking meals and side dishes filled with vegetables at Yuuri’s insistence that they were tasty when made right. Victor himself never had to worry about healthy food, as he normally just ate whatever was put in front of him with no real regard to how it tasted. 

Victor put a finger to his lips as he scanned the sea of green before his eyes found their target. “Here we are!” he smiled, picking out and placing a packet into the bottom of the trolley.

“You found that fast.” Yuuri pointed out.

“Huh?” Victor blinked.

“You found that item almost immediately.” He reiterated.

“Well, it’s always in the same place.” Victor explained, (it wasn’t a big deal, after all), before he moved on. “And while we’re here…”

Victor moved himself around, going directly from point to point, picking items as he went, before he came back to Yuuri who acted as the safe-base, placing each item in the trolley as he showed them off. “I got the giant radish thing, the spring onion thing, the onions, cabbage, carrots. They were doing a deal on fruits I thought we should try, so I got some peaches, mandarins, and apples.”

Before Yuuri could talk, Victor excitedly piped up again. “And look, look, Yuuri – purple yams! _Purple! Yams!_ Can you believe it? I saw them on TV, and they’re supposed to be sweet when you cook them. I can make a dessert with _yams,_ isn’t that _amazing?_ ”

Eyes wide, Yuuri gazed at Victor. 

Victor furrowed his brow. “Yuuri?”

“Eh? Oh – yes, Victor, that _is_ amazing. I’ve never really had purple yams before, we couldn’t get them to our small convenience store.”

“Small?” Victor questioned, placing the yams down in the trolley and taking to slowly rolling it down the aisle with Yuuri by his side.

“Yes, in Hasetsu, my hometown, we’re quite a small community… well, we might have had one or two supermarkets, but my parents didn’t own a car, and I didn’t like travelling too far from home, so… the little store near our house did us good enough.” Yuuri replied with a reminiscent smile. 

“Oh…” was all Victor could think to reply with at the time. This was unknown territory – communities, families, homes; these were complicated things that Victor hardly knew about – Yuuri’s home, Yuuri’s childhood – his life… his life before him.

It made Victor wonder….

 

Brushing a hand on his shoulder, Yuuri made Victor shock himself out of his thoughts. Yuuri had tried to get his attention.

“What’s next on the list?” Yuuri asked, pointing to the paper in Victor’s hand.

“Oh, sorry!” Victor blurted, fumbling around to read the next item. “Meat.”

At least _this_ wouldn’t be so complicated.

 

When Victor had returned to the cart with, rather than the expected assortment of cut beef, chicken breasts, or pork loin, but instead something completely different, Yuuri was visibly taken aback. 

With his hands in butcher’s gloves and carrying reddened plastic sacks, Victor noticed Yuuri’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

Yuuri’s eyebrows knitted as he seemed to look around for words to say.

Victor frowned. “Did you want something different?”

“No, no.” Yuuri shook his head. “I just was expecting… the meat to already be cut?”

Victor blinked. “Why would it be?”

“Well, because, that’s how people usually buy meat – it’s already butchered.”

In reaction, Victor considered that idea, before scrunching his nose. “I’d rather do it myself – I know I get the best cuts of meat that way.”

“But… How did you even get these? Did you go behind the counter?”

Victor shook his head. “The people here always let me have these.”

“Huh?” Yuuri gaped.

“Yeah. If that’s not what usually happens, then those people must be really nice, huh?” he beamed. 

 

Yuuri stood blankly, before his expression softened into interest. “You butcher your own meat, Victor?”

With a nod, Victor chuffed. “As any good homemaker would.” He puffed his chest, before placing the bags separately to the fresh produce within the trolley, which grew heavier with all the weight of the meat.

“Now fish!” Victor beamed.

“I’m guessing you get whole fish too?” 

“Of course! _Su-goi_ , isn’t it?” Victor enthused, hoping he used the word correctly.

Yuuri chuckled. “That’s one way putting it.”

Victor’s lip stuck out. “What are the other ways?”

Yuuri laughed (memory saved forever), shaking his head. “It’s just a saying, Victor.”

 

So, they continued their shopping.

 

-

 

“Hey, hey, Victor, I think that fish is staring at you.”

“ _W-what!?_ ”

 

-

 

“Victor, why are you opening the flour?” 

“…To see if it’s pure--”

“That’s not necessary.”

 

-

 

“Darling, take the ones from the back – they have the later use-by date.”

“Eh, you’re right! I never noticed that.”

 

-

 

“Ah, Victor, look, a dog!”

“Oh my! …but Makkachin’s cuter.”

“Yes… _Much_ cuter…”

They looked at each other.

…They asked to pet the dog.

 

-

 

“I think we need to stock up on more medicine, Victor.” Yuuri piped up after they piled more groceries in. 

“Like cold medicine?”

“Yeah, probably some pain killers too.”

 

When they reared into the aisle of brightly packaged pharmaceutical items, Victor’s eyebrows quirked up, eyes gleaming.

“Does Japan really have this many different medicines?”

“Well, yeah.” Yuuri shrugged. “There are many different things people need to take, all for different purposes. Some of these are just vitamins and supplements, though.”

Squinting at something on a shelf, Victor tried to sound out the words, but found himself giving up at the first character. “Your _kan-gee_ thing is too hard, Yuuri.”

“ **頑張って** , Victor, you’ll get it one day.” Yuuri assured in a way that made Victor’s hope flicker.

 

Curling his hands around Yuuri’s arm, Victor glittered. “Could you read it for me?”

A dusting of pink on his cheeks, Yuuri nodded. “Mm, of… of course.” He gracefully agreed before he leaned into the box. 

“ **バイア** …” he began, before his voice trailed off and his face’s hue deepened.

“Huh?” Victor blinked. “What does it say?”

“It says… **バイアグ** \--” Yuuri attempted, before his face grew scarlet.

“Bi-a-goo?” Victor tilted his head. 

Yuuri’s face looked like it was about to burst with how painfully red it had become.

“I don’t understand it…” Victor pouted.

“It… it…” Yuuri struggled, his eyes unable to meet Victor’s.

 

“Hmm…” Victor put a finger to his lips. “Do we need any of this?—”

“ **いいえ!** ” Yuuri burst, then covering his mouth to stop himself. It seemed Yuuri was aware of disturbing other customers even though they were the only ones in that aisle (how considerate and wonderful, Victor thought); and he then spoke quieter, his face still bright as could be, “I mean, no, Victor… we don’t need this.”

Victor was confused with how riled up Yuuri had become, with how adorably red his face was, and how his voice had raised and dipped up in pitch as he tried to communicate something to him. He had absolutely no clue what that something was, but Victor had become so caught up in Yuuri that he forgot about it anyway.

“Okay.” Victor then smiled, and moved on.

He did, however, catch how Yuuri breathed out shakily as Victor scanned the other shelves.

 

“Hmm…” Victor hummed. “It all looks the same to me.”

“Ah,” Yuuri pointed out, taking a box from a middle shelf. “This is it, decongestants.”

Victor looked them over, noting the professional looking colours and bold font. “These are for colds, right?”

“Hmm.” Yuuri nodded. “With the cold and flu season coming up, I want to be sure we’re not caught out if one of us gets ill.”

Victor would sprint a thousand miles barefoot through fire while sporting a flu _himself_ in order to get Yuuri medicine should they run out, but if it made Yuuri more secure, he’d allow the nearly four-hundred yen to be spent.

 

“Do we need more than one?” Victor asked, reaching to grab another box when something caught his eye. Redirecting his attention, he took something else from a lower shelf. 

“Curious…”

“What is it?”

Victor looked at the box he was holding, and then at the one Yuuri was holding. “Aren’t these the same?”

“Eh?”

“Look,” Victor pointed to his box. It was plain, with the only colour being the green of small decals and the cool blue of the text printed on it. “the _kan-gee_ on this one and that one are the same, only this one is a third of the price!”

Yuuri shook his head. “Victor, they’re both decongestants, but this one is a branded version, and that one is the generic supermarket brand.”

Victor furrowed his brow.

“This one is more effective, and so it’s more expensive, right? They’re the same type but made differently.” Yuuri explained.

“That doesn’t sound right.” Victor shook his head, turning his box around. Ah…

“What do you mean?” 

“Could I have a look at that one for a second?” Victor held his hand out, and Yuuri curiously gave over the more sophisticated-looking medicine.

 

Victor turned the box around, looking for something until he laid his eyes on it and clicked his tongue.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked.

“The PL number.” 

Yuuri’s face scrunched in confusion. “PL… what?”

“The PL number. Product Licence number. It’s a unique code given to drugs when they’re manufactured, so they can tell the ingredients inside each one. If they’re different, they’re either different drugs, have different ingredients, or have different manufacturers.” Victor began, before he put the boxes together and leaned towards Yuuri. 

“So that’s…” Yuuri mumbled.

“The PL number. You see this?” Victor pointed at the two jumbles of numbers. “They’re exactly the same.”

Yuuri squinted, pushing his glasses up his nose (which was so, so adorable Victor would’ve melted into Yuuri’s arms if he wasn’t so fired up). “They are.” Yuuri agreed, before he looked up at Victor, still confused as ever. “And that means?”

“That means that they’re the exact same drug, only this one is in prettier packaging and has triple the price.” Victor declared.

 

It took a second, but soon Yuuri’s mouth dropped agape. “You’re right.” 

Victor watched Yuuri’s expression and felt his heart wound. “Honestly, it’s terrible…” Victor tutted, shoving the expensive medicine back on the shelf where it belonged. Ripping  
Yuuri off all this time; too bad he was a simple house-husband - it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

“…How’d you know about this, Victor?” Yuuri spoke up. 

Victor turned from the shelves to Yuuri, who carefully read the packaging of the reasonably-priced decongestants.

 

Victor paused for a moment, before he adjusted his apron. “I may not know all about decongestants and the sort, but… I know that people will take advantage of the desire… the _need_ for drugs, and…”

Yuuri looked up at him, warm brown eyes gazing at Victor in a way that made him want to look away in shame. Yuuri was so wonderful. 

“It _is_ terrible…” Yuuri said, dropping the medicine in the trolley. He frowned at the shelves. “To think that companies would take advantage of people’s want to be well again… Even mine…”

Victor clasped his hands together behind his back. “Yuuri…”

 

His eyes found Victor’s again, and Yuuri’s mouth curved up into a smile. “That’s why I’m so lucky to have someone as brilliant as you with me.”

Mouth going dry, Victor held his breath, face pinking. He feared that if he breathed, it would come out as a croaky gasp - a toad trying to crawl up his esophagus from the leaden depths of his body. Yuuri was so, so wonderful.

Yuuri reached out and placed a hand on Victor’s. “Victor, are you okay?”

Unhesitant, Victor nodded, grinning from ear-to-ear. 

Yes… The only thing Victor could do was ensure Yuuri was never troubled by anything like this again.

 

They walked together, Yuuri courageously pushing the very weighty trolley as Victor lovingly clung to his arm.

“I’ll make hot pot tonight, if you’d like?” Victor purred.

“Mmm, hot pot? That sounds amazing, Victor.” Yuuri gushed.

“I’ll do my best to make it delicious for you, my love.”

A small kiss was sneaked onto Victor's cheek (which will not be washed for the rest of the day). “ _All_ food you make is good, Victor.”

 

But Victor knew it was only because of Yuuri that it was edible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It hasn't been a month at least, right? ^^'' I may make some minor edits, or big edits if i find something wrong with this one, haha.  
> School's started again, so updates will be a tad slower, but i'll still do my best! :)
> 
> Okay, there's quite a bit to unpack in this chapter, so i'll just discuss the PL number thing. I'm not sure if it's a thing in Japan, but here in the UK pharmaceutical companies will sell the same exact drug for, like, triple the price of what a supermarket brand will sell it for. It's so easy to spend, like, £3.99 on something that's worth £1.00; and all you're paying for with that is the fancy packaging they put it in. But, like I said, I'm not sure if Japan has PL numbers or if they have the same kind of problem (i tried to look it up too but got no results ^^'').
> 
> Here are the translations (don't fail me now google translate):  
> " **いらっしゃいませ!** " - _Irasshaimase!_ : Welcome!  
> " _su-goi_ " - **すごい** : amazing (but with Victor's Russian accent lol)  
> " _kan-gee_ " - 漢字 - kanji (one of the japanese writing systems - i am unaware which would be used in this case so i went with kanji to be safe. if kanji would not be appropriate here then don't be afraid to call me out lol)  
> " **頑張って** " - _ganbatte_ : Do your best/keep going  
> " **バイアグ--** " - _baiagu--_ : bike (but is that what it really means? i had lots of fun with this, and im pretty sure you can guess what Yuuri is struggling to read out here)  
> " **いいえ!** " - _Īe!_ : No!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, I'll see you in the next update!  
> 


	5. Saturdays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saturdays were the greatest because Victor could keep Yuuri's attention to himself, even if it was just for one day.

Victor woke with a shine of sweat on his forehead, his chest clutched by a trembling hand. 

It was dark.

 

Shooting up, he palmed around until he clasped familiar warm skin. 

A tonne of weight lifted from his lungs. He could breathe again. Yuuri was still here. 

 

“Hmmm-ph…” Victor heard the stirring of his boyfriend and quickly snuggled himself tight under the covers.

His heart thumped. He was holding Yuuri’s hand; and there was no way he could let go of it without rousing Yuuri further.

 

The covers of the bed rose and fell quickly.

…How could he possibly sleep _now?_

 

Normally, at around five AM, Victor’s body alarm would have alerted him to start his day. That morning, however, there was no need, as he had been wide awake since two-nineteen in the early hours. Deciding that Yuuri would no longer be awoken if he moved, Victor slowly slid his hand away, his heart catching on itself as he felt less and less of Yuuri’s warmth. 

By the time he’d separated himself, the orange rays of the morning sun had begun to grace Yuuri’s skin. His eyes closed peacefully, with sleep caught in both corners, pretty hair tussled and stuck against the pillow; and light sighs were coming from his mouth. 

Victor hummed, parted his fringe and planted a light kiss on his temple. Thank goodness that Yuuri had good dreams.

 

Before he could leave their bed, however, Victor’s ears perked to a small voice.

“Vi…Victor…?” Yuuri drawled, his eyelids cracked open the tiniest amount.

Thinking quickly, Victor spoke softly as to not stir Yuuri further. “I’m waking up to cook breakfast, you can go back to sleep, darling.”

Yuuri’s knuckles came up to rub at his eyes; his mouth, the right corner stained with dried drool, frowned. “But… It’s so _early…_ ”

Victor tugged his legs out and planted them on the floor. “I know, which is why you are still in need of sleep.”

“It’s _Saturday…_ ” he yawned. “ **一緒に寝て** , Victorrr…”

Victor hummed in amusement – it was adorable when Yuuri slipped back into his native language, even if he had no idea what he was saying. So, he simply kissed Yuuri’s forehead again in hopes of appeasing him and repeated himself. “I’ve got to cook breakfast, Yuuri… But I’ll make it delicious, okay?”

Either accepting his argument or purely being too drowsy to make any further objections, Yuuri sighed a few more things Victor couldn’t understand before fluttering his eyes shut again.

 

Victor smiled widely, leaning over and thumbing Yuuri’s temple for a few moments more. 

Oh, how he adored Saturdays.

 

Saturday was Victor’s favourite day, that was something so overtly obvious he needn’t even explain; but he would anyway.

For Saturdays were one of the sparing days of the week when the humble homemaker Victor got Yuuri all to himself for a full twenty-four hours. Sundays Yuuri might have to finish some marking or lesson planning, but Saturdays? They were _just for him._

Ah, he was so excited! The fact that he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sustainable sleep didn’t even register in his body; in actuality he felt even more enthusiastic about the day ahead. 

 

Victor carried out his morning routine while barely thinking about it, as instead his mind was preoccupied with deducing what Yuuri would like for breakfast. Weekends were special as Victor didn’t have to make Yuuri’s bento, and so he could spend however much time he wished on crafting the perfect breakfast to start the day.

Victor made it his mission to one day be able to cook so well that everything became Yuuri’s favourite, but he still found that Yuuri preferred some meals over others.

 

For one, Yuuri didn’t like to eat oily foods too often – he was very cautious around greasy meals and so Victor tended to only make fried dishes a few times a month. He told Victor that he had a very low metabolism which lead him to gaining weight very easily, and that losing weight was also a struggle. This wasn’t a concern to Victor, of course – Yuuri’s size wouldn’t bother him. But if it made Yuuri feel more at ease with himself, Victor had no problem using alternatives.

Second, while Yuuri didn’t like to admit it, he definitely liked what he would classify as ‘kiddie-meals’. Meatballs, hamburger steak, pizza, curry – Yuuri had a discrete weakness for them, and would never admit that his affliction with simple meals like that was even more than a child’s. He said that his parents always made him whatever food he asked for, and so he never really developed his palate often as he always ate the same sorts of meals, even admitting with embarrassment (which was adorable to see) that this had happened right up until he left for college. 

And it was because of this weak palate that Victor made a third discovery: Yuuri was secretly a picky eater. 

Never, ever, _ever_ , would Yuuri admit to Victor that he was one, of course; but Yuuri’s pickiness was something he could spot from a mile away. Well, at least he could spot it after he finally worked it out.

 

Initially, Victor knew it was because his cooking was terrible that Yuuri was reluctant to eat the meals he’d found online recipes for. However, Yuuri wouldn’t eat much of it when Victor asked him to make the recipe either, Victor then knew something wasn’t right.

It scared Victor, honestly, thinking that Yuuri purposefully avoided to eat. With a smile, he’d say he enjoyed it, but would leave half the meal on the plate as he’d make the excuse that he was too full to eat the rest. That, paired with Yuuri’s reluctance to eat fried foods and his weight worries, drove Victor to upsetting conclusions; problems Victor was unsure of how to fix.

But then Yuuri showed him how to make curry and rice, and with that it all made sense. Victor’s eyes were stinging with unfathomable pride seeing Yuuri’s plate of curry and rice as bare as dry bones – it was one of the first times Yuuri had completely eaten something he had made. 

He then knew it wasn’t Victor’s cooking (as while he knew he wasn’t that great yet, he obviously wasn’t terrible), it was actually Yuuri’s tastes. When he made meals that Yuuri obviously wasn’t fond of, he’d still try to eat as much as he could, but would ultimately leave some of it untouched. 

This was why Victor wanted to get even better at cooking – surely if Victor became better at it, he could cure Yuuri’s pickiness! 

Today, however, was special because it was Saturday; and on Saturdays, Yuuri always got his favourite breakfast.

 

“Good morning, Yuuri!” Victor beamed as the tufts of Yuuri’s morning hair were spotted. Just in time too, as Victor had just finished placing the last bowl on the table. 

“ **おはよう** , Victor.” Yuuri smiled gently through tired eyes, still donned in his sleepwear. 

It must be so nice to wake up and not have to immediately get dressed, Victor thought to himself while Yuuri rubbed at his eye and adjusted his glasses.

When Yuuri appeared awake enough to see further than ten centimetres in front of him, his face lit up. “Ah!”

“I made your favourite!” Victor pointed out.

Decorating the table were, as Victor said, all of Yuuri’s favourite breakfast dishes. Tamago, those cute little sausages sliced up like even cuter octopuses, fresh fruit – everything Yuuri loved, Victor made sure he could feast on it that morning. Figuring out Yuuri’s favourites was actually easier than he thought. While Yuuri never exposed his favourite meals, it was clear by the state of his plate and the speed at which he ate which of the meals Victor placed in front of him were his favourites.

 

“ **すごいねー** , Victor. Thank you.” Yuuri’s face glowed and he looked far more awake than he would usually do in the mornings. He quickly sat down and clasped his hands together. “ **いただきます.** ” 

Victor waited, chopsticks tight in his grip, for Yuuri to take a bite.

Yuuri dove in for a neatly wrapped tamago, a technique which Victor had spent the past few months perfecting. It wasn’t overcooked, but it wasn’t too gooey – it pinged back against Victor’s chopsticks. He parted his lips and took a hefty bite, and immediately Yuuri’s eyes brightened behind his glasses.

“ _Oi-ee-she?_ ” Victor asked hopefully.

Yuuri nodded repeatedly. “ **おいしい.** ” He grinned.

 

 _Click._  
The image of Yuuri smiling like that was saved in his memory forever.  
And his stomach was doing back-flips.

 

“I can help with the dishes, Victor.” Yuuri attempted, but Victor had already thrown himself into the task.

“I can’t ask that of you, darling.” Victor waved off, scrubbing at the many dishes piled up in the sink as was typical with Japanese meals, apparently.

“Come on,” Yuuri coaxed, slinking to Victor’s side. “I… basically ate everything anyway.” He then followed sheepishly.

“And that’s a bad thing?” Victor quirked an eyebrow.

“No…” Yuuri denied. “I mean, you made it… and you should eat more, Victor.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” Yuuri affirmed. “You hardly ate anything.”

“I did too.” Victor pouted. Ate what he could at least, and he confirmed that the food was satisfactory to his own tastes, but he couldn’t eat a whole lot…

“You stared at your food for an awful amount of time.” 

 

“That’s because,” Victor said, the back of his neck heating up. “I… couldn’t.”

“Eh?” Yuuri gaped. “Do you not feel well?”

“No, it’s not that.” Victor shook his head.

“Then what’s wrong?” Yuuri asked, worry flooding in.

“I…” Victor swallowed.

Yuuri waited patiently, placing a calming touch on Victor’s cheek and making the tips of his ears burn.

Victor managed to force out his words despite the rising feeling of butterflies in his stomach. “Seeing you enjoy something I made, it… makes me so happy that I forget to eat.” he flushed.

 

“…Oh.” Yuuri used the hand in which he held Victor’s cheek to cover his mouth as pink dashed across his cheeks. His eyes blinked over and gleamed at Victor.

“Oh...” Victor was going to die. 

 

Somehow, Yuuri had coaxed him onto the sofa and left him steaming in order to wash the remaining dishes in the sink; and he couldn’t quite find the voice to argue against it.

His heart was thumping in his chest.

 

When Yuuri finally emerged, it was with a bowl and a small kitchen knife.

Victor peered at it curiously when Yuuri plopped himself next to him.

“This is something my mother used to do for me,” Yuuri explained, placing the bowl of thick-cut apple slices on his lap before taking one and holding it firmly in his hand. “You take an apple slice, and then,” he began carefully scoring the skin, rocking the blade back-and-forth, squinting in concentration.

Victor watched in awe as he made a ‘v’ shape on the apple slice’s flesh.

“Look, ’V’ for Victor.” Yuuri remarked cheerily, turning the slice for him to see (as if he wasn’t already hanging off his shoulder while watching him).

Victor’s heart shot up his throat, and he nodded in furious appreciation. 

Turning back to his work, Yuuri began using the knife to cut into the arch of the apple, curving the knife up. Once he met the tip of the ‘v’, he stopped; removing the knife and the sliced skin with it. 

“Ta-da!” Yuuri smiled, presenting the apple slice. The remaining red of apple flesh ended with two sharp points directing upwards. 

“Ah, they’re like spires! _Su-goi!_ ” Victor beamed.

“Spires? No, no, they’re like ears, see? Like a rabbit.” Yuuri held the slice between his fingers and made it ‘hop’ across the air.

Victor then nodded, quickly finding the image of a rabbit apple entirely more interesting than a spire apple. “I see! _Uu-sah-gi,_ right?”

“Right! Cute, isn’t it?” Yuuri’s cheeks dimpled.

 

Yuuri then shifted in his seat. “I wouldn’t eat apples unless they were like this,” he admitted with a dusting of pink shame on his cheeks.

“I see…” Victor said, and wondered if he still wouldn’t eat apples any other way.

After a moment of quiet, Yuuri raised the slice near Victor’s mouth. “Can you try it for me?” he asked tentatively.

“Okay,” Victor said immediately, reaching to take the slice from him but Yuuri moved it away.

“I…” Yuuri gaped, eyes flickering between the slice and Victor’s frozen hand. 

Then, Yuuri’s expression firmed. “Let me… let me feed you.” He mumbled, raising the apple rabbit again.

 

Victor couldn’t breathe. His pulse pounded in his ears. 

He parted his lips, and felt Yuuri’s shaky hands as he fed the slice to him.

Biting down on one half of the apple, an explosion of juice and flavour burst as Victor chewed. The fruit was crisp, fresh and rupturing with sweetness. “Wow!”

“It tastes better like this, huh?” Yuuri smiled, feeding the rest of the apple into Victor’s mouth. His gaze was warm and invigorating. 

“Yes,” Victor agreed, gulping down and watching Yuuri’s gaze. It tasted far better.

 

“Want another—”

“Yes.” Victor nodded furiously. “Please.” He quickly added.

A grateful look graced onto Yuuri. “I’m glad you like them.”

 _Click._ Memory retained forever. 

 

As Yuuri set to making a new rabbit apple, Victor found himself piping up.

“Could…” Victor broke in, his voice growing quiet. “…could you feed it to me again, please?”

Yuuri caught Victor’s eye, his own wide and glossy, and broke away, nodding quickly. “Yes, of course.” he breathed.

Victor gulped down, finding that he was longing for Yuuri to feed him again; apples were ruined forever unless Yuuri peeled them like that and brought up to his lips with such care and…

Oh, he was becoming picky too – but could anyone blame him? 

 

“Okay, Victor, I hope this one tastes good too.”

Victor’s eyes twinkled, his body overflowing with flapping butterflies which part of him was afraid would escape out from his mouth if he opened it; he was fit to burst with Yuuri’s intoxicating attention. He couldn’t help it. 

He selfishly let Yuuri feed him again, because he just couldn’t help himself. Yuuri’s attention was all on him; and despite how egotistical it was to hoard Yuuri like this… it was okay, as it was Saturday, after all.

And, _oh_ , how Victor wished and wished, from the depths of that tenebrous brood of frantic fluttering, that Saturday could last forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *emerges* _im here, it hasn't been two months yet!_
> 
> saturdays are just those days when nothing else seems to matter, y'know? that attitudes applies especially to Victor, who wilfully ignores everything but yuuri's company as if every day were saturday ☆
> 
> but things will always catch up to him in the end.
> 
> Translations! ☆ (thank you to google translate/if these are incorrect feel free to correct me):  
>  **"一緒に寝て"** \- _Issho ni nete_ : Sleep with me  
>  **"おはよう"** \- _Ohayō_ : Good morning  
>  **"すごいねー"** \- _Sugoi ne ̄_ : amazing  
>  **"いただきます"** \- _Itadakimasu_ : let's eat/thank you for the food  
>  _"Oi-ee-she?"_ \- _Oishi?_ \- **美味し** : Delicious?  
>  **"おいしい"** \- _Oishi_ : Delicious  
>  _"Su-goi!"_ \- _sugoi_ \- **すごい** : amazing  
>  _"Uu-sah-gi"_ \- _Usagi_ \- **ウサギ** : rabbit
> 
> I may make some edits to this chapter, like re-wording some things, etc. - i just feel like something's up with... _something_ (lol).
> 
> But I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I've nearly finished with some other chapters, so they should be up soon! ☆


	6. Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor finds an envelope among the morning's post, and it allllll spirals from there.

Victor held the envelope tightly in his trembling hands, a million thoughts racing through his mind, but one struck out prominently: what was he going to do!?

Ah! Maybe they’d know – surely they’ve experienced this before?

 

“I will be honest, Victor-san, we have not celebrated birthdays since the turn of the new millennium.” Admitted Takamura-san while working her needles into forming a new scarf for her youngest who keeps losing them.

“Oh…” Victor mumbled. 

“Once a certain age, birthdays become more… haunting.” Takamura-san continued.

“Like, ‘ _ehh? You are how old now?_ ’ – it is better not to think about it.” Wanatabe-san chipped in, teetering gently in her rocking chair while sewing buttons on a small blazer. 

“I see.” Victor nodded down, ceasing his own knitting. 

 

After a pause, Victor perked his head up when Takamura-san piped up again. “ **でも** , this is being the first birthday Yuuri is having with you?”

“ _Hai_ , he’ll be twenty-five exactly.”

“ **ええ** , well if it is the first...!” Wanatabe-san sat up. “It is **特殊**!”

Victor’s eyes widened. “Special?”

“ **はいはい** ; very, what is… **ロマンチック** time.” Wanatabe-san followed with a sure nod.

“Romantic…!?” Victor brightened. 

“Going out, time together – very important and special, Victor-san!”

“My husband, many years ago, took me to the _Imado_ Shrine for my birthday. It was the first birthday I had with him, and I have never had a better birthday since that time.” Takamura-san recounted with a faint smile on her face.

“ **でしょ**! Victor-san, you are extremely lucky to be in such an early stage.”

“ **ラブラブ** couple, **ね**?” 

_Raburabu_? That was what Victor and Yuuri were seen to be? He made a mental note to search up the term later on. He hoped it was positive. 

__“ **はいはい** , all talking and closeness.”_ _

__Talking? Closeness? Indeed, that was something they did… whenever Yuuri wasn’t away._ _

__

__“And love hotels, **です ね** ？” Tsubasa-san remarked, looking up from patching a hole in her youngest child’s blanket._ _

__Hmm…? Love… hotel?_ _

__“Ahh, Tsubasa-san!” Wanatabe-san gasped._ _

__“You came right out and said it, Tsubasa-san!” Takamura-san squealed._ _

“ _An-oh…_ ” Victor piped up. “What is a love hotel?” 

__All the housewives looked at each other before laughing wholeheartedly._ _

__“I had thought young couples would know all about it.” Takamura-san then said._ _

__Victor shook his head in reply, feeling a little foolish that he wasn’t aware of this apparently widely-known concept called a ‘love hotel’. Maybe he should search this up as well._ _

__“ **大丈夫よ** , Victor-san.” Tsubasa-san assured, possibly sensing his embarrassment. “Love hotels are…” she began, but trailed off._ _

__Victor saw that all the housewives were struggling to come up with an answer, which Victor took to be due to their language barrier. He was lucky enough to have some of the women speak enough English, which he was told they either learnt at school or through many, many years of watching re-runs of American sitcoms; but sometimes they would stumble on a concept such as this that was difficult for all parties to communicate. Quickly, he pieced together an answer that would hopefully be somewhat accurate: “They are… for love, correct?”_ _

__The housewives then visibly relaxed, picking up their individual projects once again, but not without giving each other glances. “Yes, Victor-san, they… certainly are for love.” Takamura-san nodded._ _

__Satisfied with the reply, Victor started working again on his latest project._ _

__

__“So, Victor-san, when is Katsuki-san’s birthday?”_ _

__“Today.”_ _

__“Ah, today...”_ _

__Then, everyone in the room who could understand him burst out: “Today!?”_ _

“ _Hai…_ ” Victor nodded shallowly. 

__“Why have you waited this long to prepare!?” Wanatabe-san fretted._ _

__“…I only saw after we received a card in the mail.” Victor said._ _

__At that, the usually silently brooding Tanaka-san tutted in her chair, muttering under her breath: “Bah, it is typical of men, Victor-chan: always tell you nothin’.”_ _

__All the women hummed in agreement (Tanaka-san always spoke powerful truths like that), and Victor withdrew back to his knitting._ _

__

__When Victor returned from his gathering with the fellow homemakers, his new knitting project now approximately sixty-seven per-cent complete, he was armed with recipes and best wishes to, as Tsubasa-san enthusiastically put it, ‘knock him dead’ (‘him’ being Yuuri, of course). After it was explained that this was merely an expression and not an instruction (and a horrifying one at that), Victor was told that with the limited time he had to prepare for Yuuri’s birthday, he should at least be able bake him a cake and cook his favourite meal. Victor was certain he could do that with no problems whatsoever, but…_ _

__How would Victor make Yuuri’s first birthday with him ‘special’ and ‘romantic’?_ _

Despite his efforts - ‘ _how do i make romance? thank you_ ’, and search – he found little to no suitable information to help him. 

__If only he could cut his heart from his chest and spread it over, allowing everything that fizzed and popped and burned and swirled and burst and flew and bubbled to spill out and reveal to Yuuri how he truly felt. Ah, if only it were as easy as that._ _

__He could always ask Yuuri what he wanted… oh, but what if Yuuri became disappointed at the fact that Victor didn’t know him well enough to already know what he’d want!? There was no way he could risk that… so then what?_ _

__

__If only Yuuri’s birthday fell upon a Saturday, then they could’ve spent the whole day together; they’d be able to do all those things he saw couples do on the TV shows he watched._ _

__Part of him wished he could’ve found it in himself to ask Yuuri to take a day off, just one, so that Victor could treat him to everything he deserves, but… The rest of him told him that his ulterior motives were to just hoard Yuuri away from his responsibilities. Yuuri was a teacher, after all – such a selfless profession! The idea of him being so selfish as to pull Yuuri away from that and drag him down…_ _

__Feeling a tug on his apron, Victor looked down to see Makkachin pawing at his knees. He leant down to fuzz at the curls of fur on the dog. “Have I been neglecting you today, hm? You weren’t interested in coming to my meeting.” Victor cooed._ _

__In reply, Makkchin yipped._ _

__“I know how you feel…” Victor had begun to say, but shook his head from it. No, he couldn’t know. Yuuri was always there in his thoughts, even when he wasn’t… there; though he couldn’t disguise the fact that he spent more time sat waiting for Yuuri than he spent actually being with Yuuri. He was okay with it, though - he was sure he’d get used to it eventually. All his neighbours got used to it too – or… at least that was what they told him. But Yuuri… Yuuri had a lot to think about! Yes, he had all those tests, marking, meetings with colleagues…_ _

__Makkachin poked his head up when he heard Victor sigh._ _

__“At least tonight,” Victor said, patting Makkachin’s head, “I’ll be able to make him smile. But to do that, everything must be perfect, right?”_ _

__With that in mind, Victor decided to make headway on Yuuri’s special birthday cake, starting to squint at the neat handwriting and visual aids Takamura-san had etched onto a page torn from her cutely-patterned notebook._ _

“So, it’s…” Victor muttered, wiping batter on his face in his efforts to wipe flour from his cheek. “Uhh… _Do-do doo-doo doo-doo_ … Or, is it _do do do-do do doo_?” 

“Right… _Hah-ppy biiirthh-daay tooo-yoou…_ ” Victor tried. He clicked his fingers (well, more slipping them past one another, as his hands were covered in gloopy cake batter) – that sounded right. 

__

__“Why yes, dear Yuuri, I did make this all by myself…” he whispered, slicing strawberries. If Yuuri’s birthday were in summer they would be much bigger and juicier; but then again Victor wasn’t even certain if his cooking was even suitable for human consumption back then, so maybe it was for the best that Victor had this long to at least become average at baking. “I would’ve had more time if only…” he shook his head. Wrong. “I wanted it to be perfect, Yuuri. Just for you…” But maybe it wouldn’t be perfect, maybe it wouldn’t be good at all, as it wasn’t like he had—_ _

__A short rush of red. Ah. Red curled from the side of his left index finger. He had gotten distracted. While moving himself to run his cut finger under a cold tap, he scolded himself: served him right._ _

__

Right. Everything was running on schedule: the cake was iced, the meal was almost ready, and Yuuri was due back in ten minutes. “ _Oh-tan-jou-be oh-meh-deh-tou goh-zai-mah-su._ ” he rehearsed while securing a plaster over his finger, the practiced words slipping off his lips. Ha! He might have finally got it. 

“ _An-ah-ta, oh-kai-rin-nai-sai; oh-tan-jou-be oh-meh-deh-tou goh-zai-mah-su… Oh-tan-jou-be oh-meh-deh-tou goh-zai-mah-su, an-ah-ta…_ ” 

__Yuuri was due back in five minutes._ _

__

__In the heavy silence, the door handle rattled, and Victor squealed before scampering down the hallway._ _

_“Yuuri! _An-ah_ —”_

__Victor stopped dead in his tracks._ _

__“I’m… home, Victor…”_ _

__

__Hanging his shoulders low, Yuuri had his bag trailing so low it nearly dragged against the ground. Grey circles made marks under his eyes, which were hollow and barely open, his hair disorientated and frayed in different directions, his hideous tie hanging loose around his neck. When he had spoken his voice was gravel – rough and worn._ _

__“Yuuri! Wh-what happened!?” Victor blurted, rushing to his side to take the bag that pulled Yuuri down like a bag of weights. He then brought his hands to Yuuri’s cheeks, his eyes darting around his face, searching._ _

__“I’m…”_ _

__“Did someone hurt you? Where? What did they want?”_ _

__Yuuri squinted his eyes. “…What?”_ _

__“Where did they hurt you?” Victor repeated the most important question._ _

__Yuuri shook his head slowly, but halting and rounding his eyes into globes as they found Victor’s. “Victor I’m not… I’m not hurt.” He said in confusion, concentrating his eyes on Victor’s like how the tamers on television followed fixed glares._ _

__Knitting his brow, Victor fumbled with his words. “But… you’re a mess!”_ _

__“Thanks.”_ _

“Why are you so… _dishevelled?_ Here, come sit down.” Victor ushered Yuuri into the kitchen as soon as Yuuri finished slowly toeing off his shoes. 

__

__“Victor, honestly, it’s not that big of a deal…” Yuuri denied as Victor began fussing about him._ _

__“Nonsense, Yuuri!” Victor huffed, pushing a hot cup of tea into Yuuri’s hands. “Drink.”_ _

__“Thank you, Victor.” Yuuri bowed his head, blowing gently before taking a sip._ _

__Kneeling in front of him, Victor rested his hands on Yuuri’s lap. “Please, my dear, tell me what’s wrong…”_ _

__Yuuri paused, before shaking his head. “I don’t want to trouble you…”_ _

__“It breaks my heart to see you upset, my love. Please?”_ _

__Staring at him a little more, Yuuri then softened his expression. Shaking his head lightly, he tutted, and took a gulp of his tea before settling into his seat. “It can’t be helped, I suppose.”_ _

__

__“Today’s just been a little more difficult, that’s all.” Yuuri then stated._ _

__“Because of the examination hell?”_ _

__“No, that’s in February. This exam period is just to see how the students are progressing – seeing if they’re meeting their goals.” Yuuri elaborated._ _

__“Oh.”_ _

__Yuuri sighed. “Today was just one of those days where you feel more tired and bored for no discerning reason. Lunch breaks feel shorter, lessons feel longer.”_ _

__“So,” Victor tried to piece together, “you’re just tired?”_ _

__“Basically, yes.” Yuuri smiled._ _

__“…Oh!” Victor gaped. “So, you didn’t get targeted?”_ _

__“Eh?” Yuuri blinked._ _

__“That’s great!” Victor beamed. “Ah, I’m so relieved.”_ _

__Yuuri chuckled slightly. “That’s good, I suppose.”_ _

__

__Pausing for a moment, Victor then stood up, winding around Yuuri’s seat to stand with his back to him. Steam rose from the miscellaneous pots and pans on the stove, fogging up Yuuri’s glasses._ _

__As he took them off to wipe them, Victor spoke flatly. “…Dinner should be ready soon.”_ _

__“Oh, okay. What did you make?”_ _

__“Your favourite.” He replied._ _

__And that was that._ _

__

__When they sat down to eat after Yuuri fixed his hair, hung up his jacket and bag, took out the bins, and washed his face, Victor could see Yuuri flit his eyes up to him every so often. He was always conscious of whenever someone, especially Yuuri, looked at him, even if just for a moment – after all, he had learnt how important it was to be aware of who was watching him._ _

__But he hadn’t noticed the silence they were in, even though they could both hear the little scrapes their chopsticks made against their bowls._ _

__“The… **ええと**... it’s cooked well, Victor.” Yuuri brought up._ _

__“Ah. I thought I overcooked it.”_ _

__“No, it’s… it’s great - **美味し**.” Yuuri piped._ _

__“Oh. That’s… good.” Victor nodded. He was glad, and yet…_ _

__

__When Victor next looked up, Yuuri was looking at him again._ _

__“What’s the matter?”_ _

__Yuuri paused, before shaking his head. “N… Nothing.”_ _

__“Tell me, Yuuri.”_ _

__Something made Yuuri’s face drop. “It’s…”_ _

__“Please, tell me?” Tell him something, for once. (no, stop that)_ _

__

__Yuuri sighed, resting his chopsticks by his bowl. He looked around pensively, as if he were rolling words over in his mouth. “You’re… angry with me.”_ _

Victor’s face bunched up, and he began shaking his head. “ _No_ , no I’m not.” 

__“You’re acting as if—”_ _

__“I’m not angry. Not even a little.” He insisted._ _

__“It’s okay—”_ _

__“No, I could never be angry with you.”_ _

__“Annoyed then?”_ _

__“No!”_ _

“Victor, _listen_ to me.” Yuuri raised his voice quite suddenly, which seemed to echo through the room. 

Victor flitted his eyes down. How awful, how awful. “...Now _you’re_ mad at _me_.” 

__“No, Victor. I’m not…” Yuuri sighed when Victor began pouting. “Look at me, please?”_ _

__Glazed eyes marbled up at Yuuri._ _

__“I’m sorry, Victor. I didn’t mean to – I-I’m not mad at you; but even if I was, that would be okay.”_ _

__Victor’s pout remained._ _

__“It would be okay because it’s normal for people to get annoyed with each other sometimes.”_ _

__Victor’s pout worsened._ _

__Rubbing his temple, Yuuri sighed patiently. “What is it you don’t understand?”_ _

__

__“I…” Victor huffed. “Did I do something wrong?”_ _

“What!? Of _course_ not—" 

__“If I’ve wronged you somehow, then—”_ _

“Victor, Victor, wait a second.” Yuuri dragged his hand through his hair in the most gorgeous way that if Victor wasn’t filled to the brim with non-directional remorse he would have melted in his spot. “Why would you ever think _that_?” 

__“I…” Victor faltered._ _

__“You can be honest with me, Victor.” Yuuri said, reaching his warm and soft hand to intertwine with Victor’s callous frozen fingers. This was something Victor just could not deny, in this instance._ _

__“I…” Victor met Yuuri’s eyes, but then cast his gaze downwards. Maybe he could say it, and Yuuri would be okay with it... this much he could say, at least..._ _

__

__“…Yuuri.” Victor darted his eyes to the ground, but then peered up at Yuuri cautiously. “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”_ _

__“Eh?” Yuuri reacted._ _

__“It’s your birthday today. I saw…” Victor began, finding his feet and shooting up, grabbing at the envelope he hid behind the rice cooker. “I saw this. Look...” Victor handed it over, allowing Yuuri to open the re-sealed flap (he did, admittedly, open it before – but that was only because he thought it could possibly be a bill, which Yuuri had previously allowed him to open and file)._ _

__Inside was a brightly coloured card with the words ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ blaring in big capital letters. Yuuri’s eyes widened, and gaped up at him. “Oh, Victor…” he whispered, splitting the card open and carefully reading the words inside._ _

__“I didn’t know, so I couldn’t get you anything… I thought maybe… you didn’t want me to know…”_ _

__Yuuri fed his hands through his hair again before groaning into his palm. “ **馬鹿** …”_ _

__Victor sank down in his seat. “I suppose I am an idiot for not asking…”_ _

“Eh? Oh, no, no!” Yuuri quickly shook head. “ _I’m_ the idiot, Victor." 

__Victor furrowed his brow at this notion. “What do you mean?”_ _

__

__“I, um…” Yuuri fidgeted. “I forgot.”_ _

__“Forgot? Forgot what, Yuuri?”_ _

__Yuuri scratched the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. “I forgot that my birthday was today.”_ _

__Victor choked on air._ _

__

__“I haven’t celebrated my birthday in years.” Yuuri elaborated, standing behind Victor and rubbing circles on his back whilst he fumbled with this new information._ _

__Having claimed Yuuri’s calming tea for his own, Victor gulped it down._ _

__“My family live all the way in Hasetsu – a plane ride away from Tokyo – so I can’t celebrate with them. And… I don’t really have any friends in the area either…”_ _

__“I find it highly improbable that someone like you wouldn’t be attracting hordes of people wanting to be your friend, darling.” Victor instinctively piped up, but shushed down again so Yuuri could continue._ _

__Yuuri’s cheeks glowed for a moment, waving off Victor’s compliment. “I’m not a very social person, so… my birthday has been just a normal day for me.”_ _

__“Ah, I see.” Victor said, but found himself frowning. “You were all by yourself?”_ _

__Yuuri paused for a moment, before shallowly nodding his head._ _

__“Oh, Yuuri…” Victor flattened his palm against his chest. “…I feel terrible.”_ _

__“Don’t.” Yuuri said. Victor peered up at him, meeting Yuuri’s smiling face. “I’m not by myself anymore, am I?”_ _

__Ah – there it was; the wonderful wrenching of his heart._ _

__

__Yuuri scooted his chair over with his foot and perched on the corner, knocking their knees, before raising his hand to thumb at Victor’s pinked cheeks. “Just by you being here, this has been the best birthday I’ve had in years.”_ _

Oh, _oh_ Victor could feel himself becoming putty in Yuuri’s wonderful hand. Yuuri’s eyes were worlds of deep, soft brown which burst into a glossy hazelnut as Victor spoke. “I… I learnt a new phrase.” 

__“Really?” Yuuri hushed his voice as if they weren’t so close together, as if they weren’t the only two people in the whole world at that moment._ _

“It’s, it’s… _Oh-tan-jou-be oh-meh-deh-tou goh-zai-mah-su_ …” 

__“That’s wonderful, Victor.” Yuuri’s cheeks dimpled. “Thank you.”_ _

__“I learnt the song too…” Victor whispered, but why he did so he wasn’t quite sure._ _

__“…Sing it for me?”_ _

__Victor nodded without even realising he was doing so. “O.. okay.”_ _

__

__-_ _

__

__“That’s terrible though, darling.” Victor said a while after they contently went back to eating their meal, which had unfortunately grown tepid. “Not knowing your own birthday?”_ _

__“Hm.” Yuuri hummed in agreement, finishing his bite before continuing. “My parents remembered though – they were the ones to send the card.”_ _

__“Ah…”_ _

__“What about your birthday, Victor?” Yuuri asked._ _

“ _My_ birthday?” 

__“ **ええ** ” Yuuri nodded._ _

__“Oh, um, the 25th of December.”_ _

__“Oh! On Christmas Day?” Yuuri perked up._ _

“ _Hai_ …” Victor said, before following it up with: “do you celebrate Christmas? Because I don’t mind if you want to celebrate it instead—” 

__“No, no. In Japan, Christmas Eve is the more celebrated day. I know that Christmas Day is more of a holiday in Europe, though.” Yuuri explained._ _

__“I see.” Victor understood, flickering his eyes up to Yuuri._ _

__

__“Do you want anything for your birthday?” Yuuri then said, which made Victor sigh._ _

__“That’s unfair.” Victor pouted._ _

__“Eh? How come?” Yuuri asked with genuine curiosity. Oh, how wonderfully selfless Yuuri was._ _

__“You get a whole month to prepare for my birthday, but I had only a few hours for yours!” Victor complained._ _

__Yuuri raised his eyebrows, before sinking into thought. “Well,” he then said, shrugging, “I’m still planning yours.”_ _

__“But Yuuri—”_ _

__“So,” Yuuri continued, “you’ll just have to make my birthday twice as good next year, ね？”_ _

__Victor almost fell from his seat, but managed to burst up to his feet as the chair fell with a crash behind him. “A next year!?”_ _

__“Of course.” Yuuri smiled as if it were a given concept. “I’ll be sure to let you know at least a month in advance this time.”_ _

__“No need, I’m already planning, darling!” Victor beamed, clapping his hands together joyfully._ _

__“Eh?” Yuuri gaped._ _

“Oh, wait, _cake!_ ” Victor suddenly said cheerfully, leaning over to reach for his homemade strawberry shortcake. 

__After that, Yuuri was thankfully far too busy eating and over-praising the bake to inquire about Victor’s birthday any further._ _

__

__-_ _

__

__“I’ll make it a week-long celebration.” Victor said to himself as he scrubbed at the dishes, quickly whizzing through the millions of ideas that overflowed his mind – boundless ideas! “Each day will dedicate itself to one of Yuuri’s charms – oh no, but I’ll need more than a week than that, a lot more; it may end up never ending!”_ _

__Yuuri had come up behind him after offering to help. “ **ええと**... Victor…?”_ _

__“I’ll need at least a month to plan out Yuuri’s cake, one week to make it – how many tiers? Oh, of course, twenty-six tiers, since Yuuri will be twenty-six—”_ _

__“ **ええと** … Victor?”_ _

__“Maybe I should ask Tsubasa-san for some ‘love hotel’ recommendations, she appeared to know--”_ _

__

__A clang of metal pots._ _

__“Yuuri!?” Victor whipped around, capturing Yuuri’s face: a deer caught in headlights. Bright red blared on the parts of his face that weren’t covered by the hand he held over his mouth. Metal pots, which Victor quickly assumed Yuuri was about to dry, were rolling on the floor. “Yuuri, are you okay?” he fretted, casting the sink sponge over his shoulder to quickly examine Yuuri’s vitals. “Do you feel tired? Ill?”_ _

__Yuuri stood with his eyebrows twitching for a second before his voice croaked out: “I-I’m fine.”_ _

__“Are you sure?” Victor pushed on, reaching his hands to Yuuri’s cheeks, feeling his skin burn up further beneath his touch. “Oh, you’re burning up!” Victor quickly decided to push back the washing up for the next hour. “I’ll take you to bed--”_ _

__“-- **おやすみ**.” Yuuri’s head rolled back._ _

__“Yuuri!”_ _

__

__Night-time had begun an hour ahead of schedule, Victor finding that he couldn’t bear to leave Yuuri alone for a moment after all, despite Yuuri hurriedly maintaining with a flushed face that he was fine and, in fact, not fatally ill and in need of immediate medical assistance. The dishes were subsequently pushed back to the following morning, meaning he’d need to wake up at least half an hour early in order to catch up. Victor didn’t mind though, of course._ _

__That night, howbeit, Yuuri had brushed his fingers over Victor’s hand before curling them together in the pitch-black._ _

__“Victor…?”_ _

__Victor’s chest rose and crashed like tidal waves._ _

__There was a shift in the bed, and before Victor could anticipate Yuuri’s movements he felt soft tufts of hair at his cheek, and the press of soft lips on his jawline._ _

__But Yuuri didn’t separate himself, and instead tucked his head between his chin and collarbone; their fingers were perfectly intertwined._ _

__“G… good night, Victor… And… thank you.”_ _

__Their chests moved the duvet in the same area, and Victor didn’t sleep a wink._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone should have a group of kindly neighbourhood mothers as their support team, don't you think?
> 
> this is very very very late - im sorry! i have actually had this chapter completed for a week or so but i thought it wasn't up to par. nevertheless, i think i got it up to a presentable standard :). it's quite late atm as im posting this, so i may be making edits later on. Worse comes to worse, I'll just delete this chapter and we'll act like it never happened, lol.  
> now, does this mean that i'll be posting a chapter for christmas/victor's birthday? yes, of course! it'll be a big chapter, and will breach into a new realm of the story, so it maaaaay be a lil late - but i'll get it done! 
> 
> translations (google translations, so don't be afraid to say if something's incorrect, as im sure there are some discrepancies lol):  
>  **'でも'** \- _demo_ : but  
>  **'ええ'** \- _Eeh_ (basically like an exclamation in this context, like 'ohh!')  
>  **'特殊'** \- _tokushu_ : special  
>  **'はいはい'** \- _hai hai_ : yes, yes  
>  **'ロマンチック'** \- _romanchikku_ : romantic  
>  **'でしょ'** \- _desho_ : right  
>  **'ラブラブ'** \- _raburabu_ : (translates directly as) love-love/(but means the same as) lovey-dovey  
>  **'ね'** \- _ne_ : it is (but i think it's kinda the same as saying 'right?' or 'yeah?' at the end of a sentence)  
>  **'です ね'** \- _desu ne_ : is not it? (similar usage to above translation)  
>  _'an-oh'_ \- _anou_ \- **あのう** : excuse me  
>  **'大丈夫よ'** - _daijōbu yo_ : it's all right  
>  _'Oh-tan-jou-be oh-meh-deh-tou goh-zai-mah-su'_ \- _Otanjoubi omedetou gozaimasu_ \- **お誕生日おめでとうございます** : happy birthday (an extremely polite way of saying it)  
>  _'An-ah-ta, oh-kai-rin-nai-sai'_ \- _anata, okaerinasai_ \- **おかえりなさい** : (should translate like) welcome home, darling  
>  **'ええと...'** \- _Ē to..._ : Umm...  
>  **'美味し'** \- _oishi_ : delicious  
>  **'馬鹿'** \- _baka_ : idiot  
>  **'ええ'** \- _E e_ : yes  
>  **'おやすみ'** \- oyasumi: good night
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, and happy holidays if i don't post before christmas! :) ☆☆


	7. Holidays Part 1: Loitering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri delivers devastating news, and Victor tries and fails to get used to the temporary conditions as a result.

While Victor stood slicing carrots for that night’s beef stew, the phone began to ring; the cute sing-song jingle echoing down the hall and into the kitchen. 

There would only be a few people who called Yuuri’s apartment: Tsubasa-san, who would sometimes call to share the latest gossip in her family or the neighbourhood, though she would usually come directly to the door to divulge overheard rumours; scam callers, who Victor couldn’t understand a word of but could immediately tell by their tone of voice exactly what they were looking for; and Yuuri himself. It was a treat whenever Yuuri phoned from work, even if it were just to ask if he’d eaten – being able to talk to Yuuri when he should be focused on his work was so precious that anything he said would be treasured by Victor until they saw each other again once Yuuri finally returned home from work. 

The fact that Yuuri would take the time out of his busy schedule to call him was be enough to make up for the time that he was away and working hard, Victor had told himself. 

 

Victor rounded the corner and checked the number that lit up the screen. It was Yuuri’s mobile number. Hurriedly, he lifted the phone and held it to his ear. 

“ _Mo-shi mo-shi?_ Yuuri?”

“ _Hi, Victor. Has your day been okay?_ ” Yuuri’s voice was the sweetest, soft and ticklish by Victor ear when he held the phone close to concentrate on his every word and imagine that he was right there saying those words directly.

“It’s perfect now. Has yours been good?”

“ _ **はい** , it’s been good. I’ve been teaching my students English Christmas songs, which has yielded some… interesting results._”

“They’re looking forward to Christmas?”

“ _…yes, they are._ ”

“Oh! If you want, I can make them Christmas cookies! Takamura-san gave me a recipe.”

“ _ **ほんと?** If it’s not too much trouble, I’m sure they’d love them._ ”

“Of course there’s no trouble! They’re normal sugar cookies, but Takamura-san lent me some… um – icing bag things! So I can make them look cute!” Victor beamed, his hands miming the shape of the cookies as if Yuuri could see them.

“ _That sounds great, Victor… And, hey, Victor--_ ”

“That reminds me: I’m making beef stew for dinner; it should be ready by the time you get home.”

 

A pause resounded into his ear, before he heard Yuuri mutter down the line: “ _About that…_ ”

“About what?”

“ _Dinner... I’m… going to be late home._ ”

“Huh? Late? Late like a few minutes or late like… half an hour?”

Yuuri had paused again. “ _I’m going to be late-late. A few hours, at least._ ”

“Hours!?” Victor instinctively burst, his jaw falling open. 

“ _I’m… I’ve got other work to do. Datasheets, lesson planning. I’m chaperoning some clubs as well, so…_ ”

“Oh…” Victor bit his thumb. “I see.”

“ _I won’t be home for dinner, I’m afraid._ ”

“Oh…”

“ _And, actually…_ ”

There was a rustling, and Victor imagined Yuuri playing with his pen as he always did when he did work at home. He felt his throat bunching up. 

“ _Actually, Victor, I… I’m not going to be home for dinner for quite a few days._ ”

“…oh.”

“ _There’s just so much work I need to do, you see? I'm sorry, Victor..._ ”

“…oh…”

“ _Victor?_ ”

“…I… I have chores…” Victor uttered.

“ _Oh. Oh, okay. I’ll see you later tonight?_ ”

_Later tonight_. “Yes…”

“ _See you later, Victor._ ”

“Bye…”

The phone slammed into its holster, and a wave of heat crashed over his body. Seizing the phone up again, Victor put his finger over the speed-dial button and held it. He held it, held it while his hand shook, and then dropped the phone back down. He covered his face. Since Yuuri wasn’t coming home for dinner, Victor walked over to the kitchen, picked up the chopping board with that night’s sliced ingredients, and scraped it all into the bin.

For the next few hours, Victor waited. He’d always wait for Yuuri. He sipped at a mug of tea by the door, as he had nothing else planned accept to wait. That’s all he ever did: wait.   
But it was fine, right? Besides, it wasn’t as if this was Yuuri’s fault – he had extra work to do, and working as a teacher required a huge amount of work, right? So, it wasn’t as if Victor was unhappy – well, it’s not like he was happy – but he was fine with this, yes. He would be fine with it, all right.

But when Yuuri finally came through the door, Victor latched onto his shoulders tightly, to which Yuuri let out a small squeak. “Yuuri…” He breathed out.

Yuuri’s shoulders were tense, and his voice was gravel: “Ah! You made me jump.”

“Sorry…” Victor said, although saying that felt out of place.

All the same, Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor’s waist and pulled their embrace closer together. “It’s pretty late, isn’t it?”

It was nine forty-six, exactly three hours and eleven minutes later than it should have been, not that Victor really minded. “Yes, I suppose. Did you eat?”

Yuuri’s outercoat ruffled as he crooked his head into Victor’s neck. “I bought something from a コンビニ.”

“Good, I’m glad you had something… You’re cold.” Victor remarked, feeling Yuuri shiver slightly.

“And you’re all nice and warm…” Yuuri muttered. “like a…” he broke to yawn. “Like a cosy blanket - an electric one.”

Yuuri was so sweet when he was drowsy, Victor had discovered: his nerves and hesitance to say things like that seemed to melt away and he became much more openly cuddly. 

“You’re sleepy, yes?”

Yuuri nodded, but even so he said: “I can… I can stay up with you if you want. We can watch clips from that… the show you like.”

“The one where its ‘candy or not candy’?”

“Yeah. You like that one, right?”

He did. He did like it; and he especially liked watching it with Yuuri, because his laugh was so infectious and so, so perfect that it made every funny moment all that more enjoyable. Everything was like that when Yuuri was with him. Despite the offer, Victor took one look at the drowsiness in Yuuri’s posture and shook his head. “You’re tired, let’s go to sleep.”

Yuuri hummed, putting a bit of space between their bodies. “Okay.”

 

So they went straight to bed, and Yuuri was already unconscious the second his head hit the pillow.

“Oh, Yuuri.” Victor tutted lightly. Typical Yuuri, offering to stay up even though his body was that heavily exhausted. 

Victor wasn’t tired, but he joined him anyway, slipping off his clothes and folding them neatly in the wash basket, as well as the clothes Yuuri had tiredly flung near the basket on half-asleep journey to the bed. Once he had slid into bed, Yuuri had begun to snore – an adorable habit that Yuuri himself seemed to not be aware of. Snoring was comforting to 

Victor, as it assured that Yuuri was still there beside him. Maybe that would be considered strange, as the other homemakers told Victor that their husbands’ snoring was the bane of their existence.

Staring up at the pitch-black ceiling, Victor drifted into sleep with the heavy sound of Yuuri’s breath lulling him into a peaceful state.

 

When Yuuri left again that morning, the apartment drained itself of all colour. Wading through as though there were melded seas of thick dye that melted from the walls, he carried on his chores as normal, part of him hoping (hoping hoping hoping) that that phone would sing out to him. That Yuuri would be on the other end, telling him that he suddenly discovered that he didn’t have to stay late, that he’d be home for dinner, and that Victor wouldn’t have to wait. 

But there was nothing.

And instead Victor waited and waited.

 

Victor was curled up in bed, face red and watching the clock, when Yuuri came home at ten thirty-nine that night.

“ **ただいま.** ” Echoed through the apartment. Makkachin’s nails padded down the hall. 

He waited for a while, unsure of what to do. He wanted to race down and greet Yuuri like always, and yet… why did part of him want to stay glued to his spot? What possessed him to go to bed instead of waiting by the door?

Another echo: “Victor? **どこにいる？** ”

Swinging his legs around, Victor quietly poked his head out of the bedroom door and watching Yuuri slide off his shoes in favour of his warm slippers. 

What work was Yuuri doing, exactly? Chaperoning clubs was one thing, but datasheets and lesson planning were things he could do at home – and even spent time doing them in the evenings before – why could Yuuri not do that? Sure, perhaps it was more convenient to do work at work, but what was it that made him choose to convenience himself now? 

Yuuri was patting at Makkachin’s head and cooing at him after he came charging at his knees.

Did he have more fun at work than at home? Because he remembered watching something on TV where a husband kept using long work hours as an excuse to escape from his ‘nagging wife’ – was he ‘nagging’? Maybe he was clingy – he was definitely clingy – he wanted to cling to Yuuri and never let go. Oh, so maybe work was an escape? Yuuri wanted to escape? Escape from him?

Yuuri was toeing off his shoes, stumbling over his feet and losing his balance. His entire being slumped over. 

Victor tried to calm himself, slapping his hands over his cheeks. Yuuri was working hard. That’s what he was doing – it wasn’t about him. No, he wouldn’t bother him. Providing Yuuri with a peaceful, quiet home after tireless effort was the least Victor could do. 

 

By the time Yuuri was creaking the door open Victor was in bed, facing the wall, the covers pulled snugly over his shoulders. Quiet. The bed weighed down on Victor’s left side.

Lips pecked at Victor’s temple. “ **おやすみ** ” Yuuri yawned, shuffling out of his layers and flinging them as close to the bin as he could manage, which couldn’t have been close enough as Victor then heard them flop on the ground.

“ **くそ** …” Yuuri huffed faintly, hoisting himself up from bed and picking his clothes from the carpet and shoving them in the clothes bin before unceremoniously plopping himself back down on the bed and letting out a long sigh. 

Moments later, Yuuri was snoring.

 

Victor cracked his eye open, and saw black. 

Their chests took turns in lifting the bed covers. 

 

Breakfast was getting cold. At seven o’clock, Victor was gently shaking Yuuri’s sleeping form. 

“Darling?” Victor said when Yuuri stirred.

“Unn… five… more minutes.”

“But, Yuuri, it’s…” Victor stole a quick glance at the clock. “One minute past seven.”

“Eh?” Yuuri stirred violently, sitting up and glaring at the clock. “… **やばい!** ”

“Br—”

“I’m going to be late for work!” Yuuri broke from bed, hurrying around the room in a frenzy. 

“Oh! …I set your clothes at the end of the be—”

Yuuri was already throwing them on.

Within moments, Yuuri was rushing downstairs, leaving Victor alone and trying to keep up. 

 

He held Yuuri’s jacket while he stabbed his arms into it.

He tied Yuuri’s tie after his frustrated fingers collapsed on themselves. 

All those things that were previously such tender and warm moments had become harsh as Yuuri was practically straining against Victor to hurry out the door.

 

“Do you mind if I take the car, Victor?” Yuuri asked while shoving his feet into his work shoes.

“Not at all!” Victor shook his head. Why would he? It was Yuuri’s car, after all. Everything in his life was Yuuri’s.

A sedated smile faintly appeared on Yuuri’s face, and for a second Victor felt a clumsy chaste kiss against his eyebrow – an odd, but dearly yearned for, feeling of warmth -- before Yuuri hurried himself again.

In a sudden rush of remembrance, Victor recalled that Yuuri’s lunch was left on the side counter, and he turned on his heel.

 

“Yuuri, _mat-de!_ ” Victor hurried to the front door with a wrapped plastic box in his hand.

With a bang, the door had already closed, the slam against the frame hammering around until it drilled itself into Victor’s ears.

The draft hit against Victor’s face as he was left standing alone. 

Heat grew over his arms and face like a rash.

 

Later that day, the phone was singing.

Victor heard it.

And Victor walked over to it.

With a lump in his throat, Victor shakily held his hand over the phone, but didn’t answer it.

 

The phone was ringing.

Victor heard it…

But, although he stirred in his seat while mindlessly watching television, Victor didn’t answer it.

 

The phone screeched.

Victor didn’t answer.

Because Victor was ignoring it.

 

Bed covers were pulled over his head by the time the door creaked open at exactly ten-forty-nine that night.

“ **ただいま** …” 

Victor could envision Yuuri toeing off his shoes as he always did. 

Bare feet padded along the hall, which Victor found unusual, because Yuuri always put on his slippers. 

Those bare feet then plodded into the bedroom, and he could hear Yuuri silently undress himself - the restrained huffs as he fiddled with his buttons; the hopping on one foot whilst trying to pull a trouser leg off the other – all the little things Victor would always find so endearing; but that night he couldn’t find it in his deep seated emotions to even pull the covers down a little to poke his eyes over. There was instead just a strange feeling at the back of his throat.

 

The next sound Victor perked his ears up to was the rustle of bed covers as Yuuri slid into bed.

“ **おやすみ** …” he could hear Yuuri whisper. 

He waited. Waited for Yuuri to say something. 

Victor didn’t answer his calls, didn’t greet him at the door, didn’t even deliver Yuuri’s lunch! Surely Yuuri was mad at him? 

There was only silence.

Yuuri must have been mad, right? He’s been such an awful person, all while Yuuri was working so hard, so Yuuri must be mad. Any second Yuuri would start scolding him, he just had to wait. Wait, wait, wait – like always, he’d wait. If all he could do was wait for Yuuri to be mad at him, he’d do it. He’d do it, okay? He would… 

Nothing.

Say something… give him something to tether himself back down to Yuuri, even if it were a string of negative attention, he’d take it – anything. Just give him… something.

Pitch black darkness crowded them, the empty silence made the space between their lying bodies stretch miles. 

…Please…

 

Victor’s heart jumpstarted when the air shifted and sound rumbled from Yuuri. 

Yuuri had begun to snore.

 

A red-hot stinging attacked Victor’s throat, infecting his eyes and forcing him to blink over. That feeling… was the worst. He couldn’t even get Yuuri’s negative attention. Victor was locked out, and he couldn’t do anything – couldn’t find a way in to regain Yuuri’s attention, nor could he decipher how it had descended to the point where they could hardly hold a conversation.

Victor shifted so he was lying up at the ceiling, finding that he was able to catch his breath better, but the stinging sensation remained.

 

That was when he realised: he was mad. It was a guilt-riddled, fiery, painful emotion that boiled inside Victor and flushed through his body. He didn’t want it, and yet ever since that fateful phone call with Yuuri all that time ago it had grown and spread through his body like the worst disease. What Victor had learnt about powerful emotions such as this was that they were all-consuming oceans that swarmed his mind and drove his overall methodical mind to do outlandish and illogical things, all in the name of quelling or further concentrating that feeling. 

 

And thus, with a loud huff, he turned to face Yuuri’s back. 

“…I’m lonely.” He said, his mouth tingling with nerves. “I’m _lonely_ , Yuuri.”  
Seeing no movement in Yuuri’s back, Victor allowed himself to carry out this release of emotion. “I… I don’t like this; you not coming home. It’s so quiet, and I feel… I feel…”

Victor’s knuckles rested against Yuuri’s back. “I feel… _lonely_.” He whispered, the words draining from his lips. “Even now, I’m so, _so_ lonely. And I feel so awful for feeling so awful, because I know you can’t help having to do your job; but you’re always so tired, and it hurts so much to see you like that, and—"

Victor coughed as his throat felt built up. “Even though it won’t be forever, I need you to know that… I’m annoyed. I’m fed up. Aren’t you fed up too? These long hours where you’re doing goodness knows what, working so hard all that time – and you’re so exhausted that you can’t even get mad at me for letting you forget your lunch and then not picking up the phone when you called, even though you should get mad at me – because I only did it to get your attention, just for a moment, and to show you how I’ve been feeling - and I shouldn’t have because things are already stressful enough for you without me being so… ‘clingy’.”

Resting his forehead against Yuuri’s shoulder, Victor sighed. “I can only say these things to you while you sleep, because I’d only riddle you with undeserved guilt otherwise. That’s just the type of person you are, darling – you would feel guilty even towards someone like me.’

“You’re so wonderful, Yuuri, so I’ll… I’ll be patient from now on, I ensure you that. I’ll wake you up on time, and I’ll make sure to not forget your lunch, and I’ll answer the phone if you call – and I’ll wait until you come home. I promise I’ll wait forever. Even if I get to see you for a minute of the day, I’ll be happy. I miss you so much, all the time when you’re not here I miss being with you. I’m sorry for being so difficult through all of this; it’s just this feeling of being alone, I can’t stand it.’

“Goh-men-nai-sai, Yuuri. It’s okay that you didn’t notice me, it’s okay that you’re not even hearing this; I’ll be okay, you’ll see. I’ll be better at this now - I’ll make myself get used to it.’

“I promise I’ll be better for you…”

 

Bursting light flashed in Victor’s eyes, making him almost jump at his skin when the bed-side lamp on Yuuri’s side of the bed had been switched on. It was then that Victor realised that Yuuri had stopped snoring in the first moments of his tirade.

“I-I…” Victor stuttered, retracting and retreating over to his own side. What should he do? He raced through as many options as possible, his face heating with shame as Yuuri turned over onto his back. 

Yuuri had raised his hands over his eyes, his breath hitching. 

“Y-yuuri! I-I…”

“I miss you too.” Yuuri lamented. “I miss you all the time.”

Victor’s heart dropped to his stomach, so wholly overwhelmed so suddenly that he lied completely shell-shocked by Yuuri’s words and reaction. 

 

“I knew that these extra hours would be worth it in the end, but you’re still right – I’m exhausted.” Yuuri confessed, hands wiping at his eyes. “And I made you feel this way…”

Finding that he was able to speak to counteract Yuuri’s words, he quickly spoke up. “ _I_ made myself feel this way. I’m ‘clingy’.”

“ _You’re_ clingy? I have to basically force myself away from you each day – I’d never leave if I didn’t.”

“I have to force myself to not force you to stay!”

Yuuri let out a dampened chuckle, which levitated Victor just a little, making speaking at that time just that little easier. “I have distanced myself from you too much these last few days, haven’t I?”

“No!” Victor argued rapidly. “You had your work. I should’ve understood--”

“You don’t have to excuse this behaviour, Victor.” Yuuri shook his head, sitting up and propping his elbow on his pillow. “I told myself it was for the better, because it would pay off in the end, but… I ended up alienating myself from you, and that was something I should’ve _never_ allowed to happen.”

“But it’s not your fault! Your work—”

“Was optional.” Yuuri broke in.

Victor’s words fell apart. “…huh?”

 

Yuuri paused for a moment, taking his glasses and sliding them on to presumably see Victor’s face properly. “I took on long hours by choice. I’ve been… offering to do my co-workers’ datasheets, as well as their grading, chaperoning their clubs, and some of their lesson planning if I have the information needed to do so.”

“What!?” Victor gasped. While he knew almost nothing about the exact details of Yuuri’s work, he definitely knew that Yuuri’s work alone was back-breaking enough for him to require a bath before and after in order to de-stress. “Why would you do such a thing!?”

Yuuri averted his eyes for a moment, hesitant.

“Could it be… you’re being harassed at work?” Victor spluttered, already unfolding plans in his head. “How despicable – ganging up on you just because you’re selfless, cute, and perfect! If you’d allow it, I would march right in—”

“--It’s not like that, Victor… It was meant to be a surprise…” Yuuri said nervously. 

“A surprise?”

“For you.”

“A surprise for _me!?_ ” 

“Yes.” Yuuri nodded shallowly. He looked as if he was preparing himself for what he was going to say next. “A surprise that… you weren’t supposed to know about, actually.”

“What do you mean?” Victor asked, perplexed.

 

“Remember how I told you that after tomorrow, my holiday would begin so we could spend Christmas Eve and your birthday together?”

Victor nodded.

“Well… that was a, uh, teensy-weensy, little… lie?” Yuuri grimaced.

Victor’s brow furrowed, finding it highly unusual for Yuuri to have been deceitful.

“You see… the term doesn’t actually end this week. It actually follows on for two more week-days: Monday and Tuesday—”

Victor gasped. “That’s—”

“The 24th and the 25th.” Yuuri nodded.

Victor furrowed his brow, attempting to process this information. If Yuuri had work on those days… “So you would’ve been at work on Christmas Eve?”

“And your birthday.” Yuuri piped up.

“And my birthday?” Victor tagged on.

Yuuri nodded again. “I couldn’t do that to you. Not on your first birthday with us being together.”

 

“So I decided to take the days off.” Yuuri continued. “But, you see, taking days of work, especially during this time of year when everyone wants a day off, is nearly impossible. I’d only be able to do so if it were an emergency, or if I were sick.’

“Teachers, because they get school holidays off, have no personal days off available. I could only get a day off if it was viewed to not inconvenience the rest of the staff, and of course it would – and I was asking for two days off, so my chances were next to nothing.”

“Oh.” Victor said. “So you…” he trailed off.

“Yeah, I told everyone that I would do their work as well as my own – I basically bribed everyone to let me take the days off.”

“Oh…” Victor held his hand to his chest. Yuuri watched him.

 

“I didn’t want to tell you…”

“Because you thought I’d feel guilty.” Victor followed, to which Yuuri nodded in agreement.

“Same reason why you couldn’t tell me how you were feeling.”

“Oh, Yuuri…” Victor wanted to tell Yuuri that his beliefs were somehow unfounded, but the feeling of guilt that twisted in his stomach at Yuuri’s words made him unable to do so with a clear conscience. “I’m sor—"

“No, Victor. You don’t have to say sorry. _I’m_ sorry.” Yuuri apologised, sighing patiently. “You feel at fault for the slightest things, Victor.”

“I—”

“You do.” Yuuri shut down quickly, anticipating Victor’s words. “You blame yourself for the hurt I’ve caused.”

“But...”

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t have been okay with me just suddenly working so late into the night, and yet I did it anyway.” Yuuri sighed. “I wanted to make you happy.”

“But Yuuri,” Victor piped up, scooching over and grabbing Yuuri’s hands. “I am.”

 

Yuuri’s hands were warm and perfect in his own. The cozy light of the lamp made the sides of his blotched face glow. 

“The… the fact that you’re doing this for me isn’t really all that surprising.” Victor shrugged. “You’re selfless like that, darling. And you apologise a lot too, you know.”

Yuuri angled his face downwards, a dusting on his cheeks. Victor smoothed his thumbs along the back of Yuuri’s hands.

“I’m so grateful for you… I’m just so glad that you’re not using work as some kind of escape because I’m too naggy, or…”

Yuuri let out a short laugh. “As _if_. More like the opposite.”

Victor tilted his head. “You don’t like your job?”

“Oh, I love my job. But you’re better.”

Victor flushed red. Yuuri was perfect. 

“And you don’t have to ‘be better for me’, okay? You know this…”

“I… I do.” Victor recalled.

“I like ‘Victor’ just fine.” Yuuri said with a reminiscent smile. “I’ll never need a _‘Better Victor’_.”

Victor had a smirk curl up on his mouth. “And I already have the _‘Best Yuuri’_ , so…”

Yuuri laughed. “You’re much more open tonight.”

Victor sighed out. “I do feel like I’ve been held to confess. But I don’t feel… bad about it.”

Linking their fingers together, Yuuri bumped their foreheads. “Don’t feel like you should either. You can tell me anything, Victor.”

Victor smiled at that. “You can tell me anything too.”

 

Frowning, Yuuri’s eyes met his. “I feel stupid; I should’ve told you about the extra work, I made you upset.” 

“Nonsense. I… was upset.” Victor said, noticing how relieving confessions like this could be. “But that was only because I was missing you. But… I understand now; no longer upset.”

“Not so lonely?”

Victor shook his head. “Not lonely.” 

Loneliness was one of the conditions Victor had gotten used to in the past - learned to cope after years of consistency. And now that he had Yuuri he was sure he’d never get used to loneliness again.

“Me neither.” Yuuri smiled sweetly, then yawned.

“Ah!” Victor poked his head towards the clock: twenty-three minutes past eleven. “We’d better sleep,” he pointed out, “you have work in the morning.”  
“Ugh…” Yuuri drawled, turning to flop down on his pillow face-first, then letting out a muffled chuckle. 

“One more day, right?” Victor leant his head down on his pillow, facing Yuuri as he switched off his bedside lamp and turned on his side.

“Yeah… one more day. Then it’s just you and me for two weeks.” Yuuri spoke softly.

Tentatively, Victor reached and entwined their fingers again. “Two weeks…” he swooned.

“Two weeks.” Yuuri repeated with a glimmer in his eye, shining as the sole star in the darkness that was no longer daunting or desolate.

Fingers were tracing Yuuri’s cheekbones before Victor was able to realise it; but he didn’t pull away.

“You’re too far away…” Yuuri murmured.

Without even thinking (reckless and yet so indulgent), Victor drew their bodies closer. His throat went dry as Yuuri nuzzled his cheek into his collarbone.

 

Tomorrow Yuuri would leave him again; but Victor would be okay, _truly_ – and he wasn’t assuring that just to convince himself of it, but because this time he legitimately believed he would be this time. Yuuri would take in the Christmas cookies he made; he’d make Yuuri a delicious lunch to power him through his long day; he’d be able to forget all about the upcoming day and instead focus on Yuuri’s homecoming. _Two weeks!_ Two _whole_ weeks of Saturdays! Two whole weeks for Victor to keep him all to himself! Oh, that would more than make up for the past few days of no dinner. What was he even worried about a few dinners when he had two weeks of _Saturdays_ with Yuuri. _With_ Yuuri. Together. Together for _two whole weeks!_ All the things they could do! They could go out to eat together, watch that show together, walk Makkachin together – all things Yuuri talked about doing, and maybe even _more!_ Yuuri was full of surprises, after all.

 

After a few moments, Yuuri let out a contented sigh, his voice slurred with drowsiness. “You’re warm, Victor.”

Victor’s ears tinged. “…Good night.” He managed to get out.

“G’night…” Yuuri whispered, his lashes fluttering closed.

When Yuuri began to snore again, it was soft and comforting; and so, despite Victor’s heart beating against his ribs relentlessly, he too was able to close his eyes and drift off into a deeper darkness.

Together, they slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, miscommunication: don't you just love it? maybe things'll be a bit clearer from now on.
> 
> i've still gotta do christmas eve & vicmas, which should be done... at some point. i'll work hard, though, don't you worry! i feel like i've got to edit a lot of this, so please excuse any mistakes for now, i'll fine comb them ☆☆
> 
> translations for this chapter, in order as always (google translate):  
> " _moshi-moshi?_ " - **申し申し?** : hey? (a greeting you use on the phone, not so much irl)  
> " **はい** " - _hai_ : yes  
> " **ほんと?** " - _honto?_ : really?  
> " **コンビニ** " - _konbini_ : convenience store  
> " **ただいま** " - _tadaima_ : I'm home  
> " **どこにいる?** \- _doko ni iru?_ : where are you?  
> " **おやすみ** " - _oyasumi_ : good night  
> " **くそ** \- _kuso_ : crap (basically a low-key swear, but this is as close a translation I could find) (yuuri got the first kinda swear! whoop!)  
> " **やばい!** " - _yabai!_ : (literally:) dangerous!/(translates like:) this is bad!  
> " _mat-de!_ \- _matte!_ \- **待って!** : wait!  
> " _Goh-men-nai-sai_ \- _gomenaisai_ \- **ごめんなさい** : sorry (formal)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! i hope to have another chapter ready soon! ☆☆


	8. Holidays Part 2: Cookies and Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri attempt to bake the perfect Christmas cookies

Yuuri was squinting at the writing on the piece of notebook paper Takamura-san had given. “There’s lots of doodles…”

“ _Ka-wai-ee_ , isn’t it?” Victor said over the dinging of bowls.

“And this is the same recipe you used for those cookies you made for my students?”

“ _Hai!_ ” Victor nodded. “Only I doubled the recipe to be sure there’d be enough for everyone. They liked them, right?”

“Of course. They said how cute they were, and felt sad about eating them.” Yuuri hummed. 

“Oh, I see I caused a moral dilemma.” Victor observed, checking over the contents of the counter to assure he had everything.

A short bubble of laughter escaped from Yuuri. “You could say that. They’re all very interested in you, Victor.”

Victor’s chest welled up with pride, poking his head up to look at Yuuri. “Really?”

“ **はい** ,” he affirmed. “Students are generally fascinated with all foreigners, but they get really excited whenever I talk about you—”

“--You talk about me!?” Victor burst, clasping his hands together in glee.

Yuuri froze as if he had revealed something dire, but nodded regardless with a tinge of pink on his face. “Yes…?”

“What do you say?” he pressed with a deep curiosity. Yuuri talking about him at his work to his students? Oh, Victor did wonder what Yuuri said about him to other people, as he would be expected to wonder, of course – all good things, he dearly wished. 

“Ah…” Yuuri flushed. “Well, you know, the usual: what a good cook you are, how sweet you are…” he trailed off, becoming too embarrassed to continue. Victor was still curious, and wondered whether Yuuri’s talks with his students only divulged that far. Then again, Victor would probably feel bashful if Yuuri knew everything he said about him to others, so he thought it would be best to not put poor Yuuri under further duress.

“I’ve got all the ingredients ready!” Victor perked, and Yuuri looked up, his face still glowing slightly. “Are you ready to begin?” he followed.

“Y…Yeah.” Yuuri nodded surely, his face brightening. “I think I’ve gotten the gist of Takamura-san’s recipe.”

“Let’s get to it then!” Victor beamed, snapping a latex glove over his hand, and with that Victor felt familiarised. 

 

“Okay, it says here…” Yuuri read from the paper, “Three hundred grams of sugar.”

Victor took the hefty bag of sugar and poured out three hundred grams into a bowl.

Yuuri looked at the sugar. So, Victor looked at the sugar

Yuuri looked up at Victor. So, Victor looked up at Yuuri.

“…Aren’t you going to measure it?”

Victor shook his head. “It’s three hundred grams.”

“Three hundred grams exactly?”

“ _Hai-hai_.” Victor affirmed with a casual nod, nonchalantly setting the sugar aside and moving on to the butter.

 

Gathering himself up, Yuuri continued. “Two hundred and twenty-five grams of butter.”

Victor carved up two hundred and twenty-five grams of butter and eased it off the belly of the sharp knife and into a small bowl.

“That’s two hundred and twenty-five grams?” Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Victor nodded.

“And you don’t want to double-check?”

“…No?” Victor replied incredulously, slightly confused as to why Yuuri would ask that.

 

After an equally incredulous look, Yuuri shook his head and focused on the recipe again. “Two eggs?”

Victor chose two eggs from their carton and met with no stir from Yuuri as he placed them in another small bowl. They both sighed out.

 

“Okay, and the last thing it says we need is four hundred and seventy grams of plain fl—”

Victor poured four hundred and seventy grams of plain flour.

“You cannot be serious.” Yuuri sputtered.

Victor stitched his face up in bewilderment. “What do you mean?”

“You’re telling me that you’re a _hundred percent_ sure that’s exactly four hundred and seventy grams of flour?”

“…yes?” Victor replied, even more confused than before.

Yuuri furrowed his brow. “I trust your judgement, Victor, but… it’s just that such _exact_ measurements are…” 

Pouting at the bowls, Victor could only see numbers when faced with what he had poured out. It wasn’t too difficult, really. When asked to give four hundred and seventy grams, he gave that amount. 

Yuuri shook his head. “Never-mind, Victor. I do trust you.”

“No, no, we can use the scales if you wish.” Victor waved off, bringing the scales that Yuuri had gotten out. Scales were equipment that Victor had knowledge of, because he had seen others use them before – not him, though. He knew Yuuri used them when he cooked, as he had so adorably squinted hard at the increasing mass of panko crumbs that one occasion where he was teaching him how to cook; but Victor himself had no need for them, because when he was asked for a measurement, he’d give it. If it would allow Yuuri to feel more comfortable, however…

Victor placed a glass bowl on the electronic scale, switching it on before clearing the mass of the bowl. Reaching for the filled bowl of flour, he hovered it over the empty bowl before jiggling the contents into it.

After a few seconds, the mass of the flour blinked in red: **4 – 7 – 0 – g**.

“ **信じられない** …!” Yuuri gasped. 

“What…?” Victor blinked. What was so unbelievable?

“It’s exactly four hundred and seventy grams! **やばえ**!” 

“ _Hai…?_ ” Didn’t he already say that before? Wait, did Yuuri mean that _‘ya-beh’_ in a good way or a bad way?

Yuuri seemed extremely excited over something, so in this case the expression may not have been used negatively. “That’s so cool that you can do that, Victor! You just know exactly what amount it is, just like that?”

“I suppose I do.” Victor shrugged, taking the measuring bowl and emptying the flour back into its original bowl. He switched off the scales, assuming that Yuuri was content and that they wouldn’t be needed any longer. 

“How do you do it?” Yuuri probed.

Victor thought for a moment, but could only return with what he knew. “I… suppose I just… do.” It was like how he knew to walk by putting one foot in front of the other, he just… _did it._

“ **うわー**!” Yuuri broke in, looking at Victor. When he saw him, however, he held his gaze. And held it. His excitement seemed to simmer then, for some reason.

 

“That’s…” Yuuri’s voice evened out. “pretty cool.”

Victor didn’t quite understand Yuuri’s feelings towards this, so he couldn’t agree. He wouldn’t lie to Yuuri, after all. So, he simply put a smile on his face and hoped it would be enough. “Okay, what’s next?”

 

After whisking the softened butter and the sugar together enough so that it was nice and fluffy – like pale yellow clouds – Yuuri cooed at Victor’s work. “Ah, it’s at a stage where I want to eat it already…”

“Butter and sugar?” Victor raised an eyebrow in amusement.

With a shallow nod, Yuuri carried on: “Well, it’d obviously be bad for you.”

“True.” Victor agreed whole-heartedly, but then a smirk curled on his face. “Even so, it _is_ Christmas…”

Yuuri paused for a moment, before speaking again, “No, no, no. I won’t be that gross.” He then scrunched his nose up teasingly. “Even at Christmas.”

“You could _never_ be gross, Yuuri.” Victor wagged his finger, as if trying to ingrain something into him. “Come on; if you want, you can have a bit?” 

Yuuri shook his head. 

Victor was curious. He looked at the bowl of creamed butter and sugar. Well… butter tasted pretty okay; and sugar did too – so maybe together… It was definitely extremely unhealthy, that much Victor could attest to; but if he’d learned anything about unhealthy food was that the more harm it did to your arteries, the better! So, using a latex-protected hand, he plunged a spoon into the bowl and scooped a glob of yellow gloop about the size of a shrivelled date. “I shall try it then.”

“V-victor, I don’t think you should have that—”

The mixture was already curled into Victor’s mouth.

“…much…” Yuuri’s face cringed.

 

Victor’s face most likely looked like a shrivelled date as a stifling of overwhelming tastes of fatty, salty butter and potent sweetness smothered his taste buds with opposing yet equally incontestable flavours that, rather than work together to impower each other, seemed to only work against one another to be the dominant taste in Victor’s mouth. 

“Victor? **大丈夫で**?” Yuuri’s face was ambivalent, as if he was caught between two expressions. “Do you need water?”

With a shake of his head, Victor pursed his lips before swallowing. It put up a good fight, though.

Voice wavering, Yuuri continued speaking with varying pitches. “I… I _did_ try to say…”

The staggering taste was on his tongue, adhering like all distasteful experiences seemed to do before they were inevitably washed out. 

 

After Victor appeared to be over the worst, Yuuri squeaked out: “How… how was it?” and held a hand to his mouth.  
Victor stuck his tongue out. “ _Bleh…_ ”

And as if Yuuri was withholding it with great strength, the dam broke and Yuuri surged into an uproar of laughter.

 

Stray little puffs of flour tumbled over the edge of the bowl as Yuuri took over the pouring and mixing of the ingredients. It was clumsy, yes, but Yuuri may have done better if Victor wasn’t coiling his arms around his ribs from behind. Even though Victor realised this, he couldn’t quite find it in himself to break contact; and even though he should...

“You doing any better, Victor?” Yuuri piped up while taking the wooden spoon Victor had laid out and beginning to fold the dry mixture in with the wet. 

“Yes.” Victor said truthfully, but then mumbled out his next words, “but… I want to recover some more.” 

Yuuri’s neck felt warm as Victor tucked his chin into it. “O-oh… I see.”

Victor watched Yuuri’s work from over his shoulder. “…your hands are shaky. If you’re tired, I can take over—”

“N-no, I’m fine…” Yuuri denied, fastening his stirring pace in response. His hand gripped onto the bowl until it became red, steadying itself through brute force. Victor noticed this, and following a moment’s hesitation reached out and palmed his own hand over his. 

“Your muscles are tensed.” Victor pointed out, feeling the warmth of Yuuri’s hand grow the longer they kept contact. It was unusual for his hand muscles to be stiff, seeing as  
Yuuri hadn’t been mixing the ingredients for too long. The hand that he held over Yuuri’s chest felt the vibrations of Yuuri’s heart. Was that something he should bring up? 

Yuuri was quiet for a moment, raising his voice again with uncertainty laced in its tone. “Maybe I need help stirring…” before taking his hand away from the spoon to take hold of Victor’s other hand and guiding it back.

 

Curling his hand around Yuuri’s, the flour was once again being folded in on itself. The tender touch of Yuuri’s hand set the hair of Victor’s skin on edge, and he could feel himself slacking. It was a messy matter, leading Victor to worry for a moment that the ratio between the ingredients would be jeopardised; catalysing an imminent failure to complete the critical task of baking the perfect Christmas cookies.

Victor could see that they had created a dilemma. In no way did Victor want this to stop – this intense intimacy was… it was… _oh_ , Victor could barely concentrate on anything but Yuuri’s warmth and the soft clinging of the wooden spoon against the glass rim of the mixing bowl.

“This isn’t very efficient…” he found himself saying. Part of him wished that he hadn’t, but it was the truth – and besides, Yuuri always did encourage him to speak up more on things that bothered him.

Seeming to contemplate those words, Yuuri soon had a response: “Maybe… But it’s fun, right?”

"Fun..." Victor rolled the words over in his head. In deciding he thought that word was appropriate, nodded in agreement. 

“Looks silly though, doesn’t it?” Yuuri chuckled at his own admission.

“Definitely.”

Yuuri laughed more when Victor had replied. 

 

“What is it you say again?”

“ **乾杯**.”

“ _Kan-pai!_ ” Victor beamed.

“ **乾杯**!” Yuuri repeated, bringing his beer can to clink against Victor’s glass of beer. 

Every counter-top surface of the kitchen was teeming with the iced cookies he and Yuuri produced. It was a job well done considering the circumstances, and a small plate with some chosen favourites sat itself between them as they knocked knees on opposite sides of the small kitchen table.

Beer, which usually had a bitter, unrefined depth, was more pleasant when paired with sweet treats fed directly by someone like Yuuri. He sipped languidly, and didn’t even purse his lips from the copper taste and instead let his lips fall open so a bite of hand-fed sweetness could be placed between them. 

Yuuri’s cheek was leaning on his knuckles as he watched Victor’s lips at every bite. 

“ **おいしい**?”

“ _Oishi!_ ” Victor beamed. _Everything_ tasted better with Yuuri.

“Your pronunciation has improved.” Yuuri noticed (and thank goodness he did!). “Have you been practising?”

“Yes.” Victor nodded. He watched videos until his eyes strained, and repeated phrases until his lips tingled; and for that appraisal from Yuuri it was all worth it. 

“I’m glad.” Yuuri smiled – the kind of smile that was so pure it should be near impossible to achieve; such a genuine smile of pride… Pride directed at _him_.

Victor’s heart soared, and found that he couldn’t chew the cookie in his mouth. He looked down at the plate in front of him, at the trees and bells Yuuri had clumsily decorated with unsteady lines with the tip of his tongue poked out slightly from between pink lips. 

They were too _cute_ …

 

 _Ding-dong_.

Victor always preferred the jingle of doorbells to the harsh knocking of doors (metal or wood, car doors or front doors – didn’t matter). Anyone would find the ‘ding-dong, ding-dong’ more pleasant than the ‘bang bang bang’ followed by gruff mutterings of people you knew but also knew not to present your back to. 

The door swung open, where Takamura-san stood before him with a child shadowing behind her leg. Her face brightened. “Victor-san!” 

“ _Kon-ni-chi-wa_ , Takamura-san. Merry Christmas.” Victor smiled.

“ **メリークリスマス**.” She returned. “Katsuki-san **はどうですか**?”

“Yuuri appears to be well.” Victor nodded. “We made cookies from the recipe you gave me.”

“ **おお** 、 **なんて素晴らしい**!” she beamed. “ **彼らはおいしかったですか**?”

“ _Hai_ , they were _choi su-goi,_ thanks to you.” 

Takamura-san gave a laugh, which made her child direct his glance from the stranger at the door to his mother. Her cheeks dusted with pink. “褒めすぎです, Victor-san.” She waved off the compliment, which Yuuri had told him was typical of Japanese people to do. 

“ _So-re wa hon-to de-su!_ ” Victor insisted. He then raised the plastic-wrapped bag of a selection of their homemade cookies, bowing just slightly at the waist. “Please accept these.”

“Ohh!” Takamura-san marvelled. After a start back-and forth of her initially refusing the gift (as was custom), she reached out with both hands to accept. “ **可愛い**!” 

“ _Hon-to-ni!?_ ” Victor clapped his hands together. She thought they were cute! Gaining approval from the resident Baking Queen was most definitely something Victor cherished, feeling a bubble of pride in his throat. Yuuri would be proud, surely. 

“ **もちろん**!” she nodded.

“ **ママ、ママ、見せて**!” the young child tugged on his mother’s skirt, stretching his arms up to see what his mother was so pleased about. 

 

She lowered herself down and allowed the child to crinkle the plastic wrapping in his hand. He shot his head up at Victor, a smile too big for his mouth on his face. “プレゼント!” he bubbled excitedly, taken primarily with the idea of a present before actually looking to see what the present was. Soon after, he began listing off the cookie shapes he saw. “ **木! そして鐘! キャンディー杖**!” 

“Hai-hai.” Victor nodded. “Christmas _no_ cookie.” 

“Victor-san **と** Katsuki-san **が作った** ” Takamura-san then said.

“ **うわー** ” The boy gaped. 

After a few moments, Takamura-san nudged the boy slightly, and he perked up in remembrance. “ **ありがとう** , Victor-san!”

“ _Ie, ie_.” He waved off, getting used to these Japanese customs of ‘thank you’s and ‘you’re welcome’s

Takamura-san then said something to the child that Victor couldn’t understand, and after that the child went rushing down the hall with the cookies in his hand.

 

“Would you like to come inside for tea and snacks, Victor-san?” she offered in English, but Victor shook his head.

“ _Ah-ri-ga-to_ , but I should be getting back.”

“You are spending time with Katsuki-san?” she said with a curl of her lips.

Victor beamed at the mere mention of it. “ _Hai-hai_!”

“Has he mentioned any… plans?” she then followed up.

Victor blinked over. He was familiar with this type of interrogation. "No?" None that he know about, at least.

“It is Christmas Eve tomorrow after all, Victor-san.” Takamura-san pointed out as if he had forgotten. “It is a day of romance!” she emphasised, as if it needed to be emphasised.

“I know.” Victor confirmed, and when he caught the animated look in her eyes, he too allowed himself to seize up in excitement. “I know!” 

She clasped his hands enthusiastically after tugging them out from behind his back. “Do you think he’ll take you to a nice restaurant? Disneyland?”

He didn’t know what that second thing was, but “Oh, I do hope so!” is what he said, and it was one hundred-percent the truth.

“Ah, I remember my first Christmas Eve with my husband. My father did not approve of our relationship, but we spent as much time with one another as we could – and that Christmas Eve was the first time I had left the house with no permission. We ate **コンビニ** sandwiches and watched fireworks from up on the hill, and it was so much worth the scolding I got when I did not come home until morning.” She giggled, but soon after that a mellow sombreness appeared to take over.

“Takamura-san?” Victor queried, for it was unorthodox for this kindly lady to emotionally sink down so suddenly. 

Just as suddenly, she perked up. After a still pause, she clasped his hands close to her. “You must cherish your time together. Truly, you must.”

Victor immediately replied, not even needing to think out his answer: “Yes, of course. I already do.”

 

Takamura-san looked like she was about to say something else, but before she could do so the rapid patter of little feet hurtled themselves down the hall. 

“ **ママ**!” the child called out, and at that Takamura-san snapped back into her original state – all smiles.

She then spoke quietly, directly to the child, a hand on his back. After hearing his mother’s words, the child stepped out from behind her skirts and stared up at Victor with a trembling lip.

“… **どうぞ**!” he peeped, thrusting his arms out. 

Looking down at the child, Victor quickly flickered his eyes up to Takamura-san, who curtly nodded. From that, Victor took that in this case it was okay to accept outright, as to not make the child feel they’re being initially rejected.

 

So, after bending down at the waist to reach down, Victor accepted the bowed box with both of his hands, the sleekness of his leather gloves squeaking against the sides as he held it up to look inside.

“ **大福餅** ” she explained as Victor saw the rounded white balls, like little uncooked dough balls. “They have red-bean paste inside—”

“-- **スーパーおいしい**!” the boy piped up. 

Takamura-san threaded a hand through her child’s hair as he quickly hid behind her skirt after his interruption, with big round eyes poking over and blinking up at him.

“They are very nice with green tea, Victor-san.” She then said with her trained smile.

Victor looked down at the box, then up at Takamura-san; and soon felt his mouth spread into an unplanned smile of his own.

 

“I look forward to it.” Victor said, before bowing again and making eye contact with the boy who gazed up at him with wide eyes.

“ _Ah-ri-ga-to_.” He thanked. 

At that, the child broke away and, with a grin that seemed to take up half his face, escaped down the hall without giving him any sort of acknowledgement. Endearing how the child could just do that.

 

“Ah! **ごめんね** , Victor-san; He is rather shy around strangers…” Takamura-san apologised, palming the side of her cheek.

Victor waved it off. “It’s perfectly alright. A smiling child is a pleasant surprise, is it not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meru-Crhiser (one month late, but still festive ☆). victor has op baking skills - needs to be nerfed in the next update tbh.  
> i've really gotta catch up - im doing valentines too, y'know! but i reckon i can catch up if i work extra hard ☆☆  
> getting this posted was kinda a day-early b-day present to myself - and im already at work on the next one! ☆
> 
> *confetti* translations! *confetti*. there are lots of these today, as victor's getting used to full! japanese! conversations! ahhh!!:  
>  _Ka-wai-ee_ \- _kawaii_ \- **可愛い** : cute  
> hai! - **はい！** : yes!  
>  **はい** \- _hai_ : yes  
>  _hai-hai_ \- **はい-はい** : yes, yes  
>  **信じられない** \- _Shinjirarenai_ : unbelievable  
>  **やべー！** \- _yabai/yabeh_ : (in this case) amazing/surprising (can be used negatively or positively, like how english speakers use 'sick' or 'wicked')  
>  **うわー!** \- _uwa-!_ : wow!  
>  **乾杯** / _kan-pai_ \- _kanpai_ : cheers!  
>  **おいしい** \- _oishi_ : delicious  
>  _Kon-ni-chi-wa_ \- _kon'nichiwa_ \- **こんにちわ** : hello/good evening  
>  **メリークリスマス** \- _Merīkurisumasu_ : merry christmas  
>  **Katsuki-san はどうですか?** \- _Katsuk-san wa dōdesu ka?_ : how is Katsuki-san?  
>  **おお、なんて素晴らしい** \- _Ō, nante subarashī_ : oh, how wonderful!  
>  **彼らはおいしかったですか?** \- _Karera wa oishikattadesu ka?_ : were they delicious?  
>  _choi su-goi_ \- _choi sugoi_ \- **ちょい すごい** : awesome  
>  **褒めすぎです** \- _home sugidesu_ : I'm being overpraised (basically like being 'oh, stop it, you', i think, lol)  
>  _So-re wa hon-to de-su_ \- _sore wa hontōdesu_ \- **それは本当です** : it's true  
>  **可愛い** \- _kawaii_ : cute  
>  _hon-to-ni!?_ \- _Hontōni!?_ \- **本当に** : really!?  
>  **もちろん!** \- _mochiron!_ : of course!  
>  **ママ、ママ、見せて!** \- _Mama, mama, misete!_ : Mama, Mama, let me see!  
>  **プレゼント** \- _Purezento_ : present!  
>  **木! そして鐘! キャンディー杖!** \- _Ki! Soshite kane! Kyandī tsue!_ : tree! and a bell! Candy cane!  
>  _Christmas no cookie_ \- **クリスマスのクッキ** : Christmas cookies  
> Victor-san **と** Katsuki-san **が作った** : Victor-san and Katsuki-san made them  
>  **ありがとう** / _Ah-ri-gah-to_ \- _Arigatō_ : thank you  
> Ie, ie - **いいえ、いいえ** : no, no  
>  **コンビニ** \- _konbini_ : convenience store  
>  **どうぞ!** \- _Dōzo!_ : here you go!  
>  **大福餅** \- _Daifukumochi_  
>  **スーパーおいしい!** \- _Sūpā oishī!_ : super delicious!  
>  **ごめんね** \- _gomen ne_ : sorry (kinda casual, but polite)
> 
> I'm thinking there may be some mistakes. i know i say this every time (lol), but i'll be checking and possibility editing tomorrow) ☆  
> Hope you enjoyed!! ☆☆


	9. Holidays Part 3: Sweets, Love Hotels, and Bubbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At long last, Victor finally gets to spend Christmas Eve with Yuuri. Despite not being sure where the day will lead and despite his bewilderment with all things new, he'll indulge himself in Yuuri's presence.

The holidays had truly come, Victor realised as he woke up at five-o-five in the morning with Yuuri’s limbs coiled around him.

It would be near impossible to part from the hold on him without jostling Yuuri from the fanciful dream he must have been having. Even so, he tried to slowly manoeuvre his way and begun lifting the hand that wrapped around his waist.

“No, Victor…” came a drowsy muttering, and Victor froze.

His hand hovered. “But…”

Yuuri tightened his grip in protest. “It’s Christmas Eve, Victor… Stay with me more?”

It couldn’t be helped, seeing as Yuuri requested it as longingly as he did. Victor resided easily, and sunk back into the warmth of Yuuri’s embrace. He couldn’t help but relax further as Yuuri snuggled against his chest with a contented sigh; because despite the lingering presence of his set schedule in the back of his mind, Victor quite enjoyed extending the amount of time he could spend in Yuuri’s arms. The holidays were about indulgence, after all.

 

The previous statement was to be expunged. There was, in the end, a line. A line which had to be drawn at some point, which Victor found would be at that moment.

“Yuuri, darling, no...”

Yuuri looked up, eyes wide in confusion. “…huh?”

Victor gestured to what was before him. “I cannot allow this, of all things. For having to deny you I apologise deeply, but--” he frowned at the plastic tupperware which Yuuri had stuck his hand into. “I cannot allow you to eat solely cookies for breakfast!”

Taking a look down at the cookies, then back up at Victor, he too frowned. “Why not?”

“You should at least have a proper breakfast, darling.”

The frown deepened; but then, Yuuri heaved heavily, as if there was someone standing on his chest: “I suppose you’re right.”

Victor pursed his lips, maintaining his stance for a few moments more while Yuuri’s index finger traced circles on the squeaky-clean tiles of the floor. 

 

Yuuri ate a bowl of fruit and oats with his cookies… and a glass of milk.

Victor had brightened when Yuuri began feeding him from his portion.

“We’ll be balanced at lunch…” Victor said firmly around a mouthful of cookie.

“Of course we will.” Yuuri agreed.

 

Fluffy, and so soft. Makkachin’s fur was so sleek since he’d begun to wash it with that special dog shampoo… maybe he’d keep an eye out for sales on that brand. Makkachin’s tongue lolled out while Victor squidged his cheeks. “ _Ka-wai-ee…_ ” his eyes sparkled. He’d always wanted a dog, and now he got to take care of Yuuri’s; and what a beautiful dog Makkachin was. Then, his face hardened. Pointedly, he held his hand out, palm up. “Paw.” He said.

Makkachin’s paw poked at his palm.

“ _Ie inu!_ ” Victor praised, rubbing Makkachin’s head and body. The dog vibrated, yipping at the affection. “ _Hai!_ You’re a good dog, yes you are!”

“ **ね** , Victor, are you ready to go?” Yuuri called from across the hall, having gone to the bedroom to dig out his coat. 

“Hai, we’re all ready!” Victor replied, grinning down at Makkachin.

When Yuuri saw Makkachin, he looked like he could weep, or laugh. Perhaps both?

“Makkachin! You look so handsome!”

As if Yuuri could understand him, he woofed and padded down to his owner to show off further. Donning a little plaid red-and-green knitted jumper, Makkachin allowed Yuuri to see a full turn of his new attire, complete with tiny little knitted shoes with little golden bells sewn to the tips that jingled the more Makkachin excitedly spun around his owner.

“Look at your little boots!” Yuuri gasped, and Makkachin preened. He then peered up at Victor with an excited beam (click). “Where did you buy these? I’ve been meaning to get Makkachin some doggy outfits, but—”

“—I made them!” Victor cut in, suddenly and unabashedly confessing to his handiwork. 

“The boots?” Yuuri pointed with a gaping mouth.

“And the jumper!” Victor added, and then waited patiently for Yuuri to inspect his handiwork with close scrutiny. 

 

Fingers traced the fine stitches of wool, and Yuuri’s face brightened in such a pure way that it made Victor’s heart flutter behind his rib cage. “ **すごい** , Victor – how did you even do this? I couldn’t even tell!”

Victor’s cheeks glowed with pride, his mind so congested with enamoured explanations that there wasn’t even enough room for one of them to be voiced, his mouth instead opening and releasing stuttering noises. It was as if steam were about to burst out his ears. He too preened to any and all of Yuuri’s praise – the only praise that made his heart thump and his brain fizzle and his stomach flitter like his throat was filled with gunpowder and Yuuri were to light the fuse that would send him bursting outwards in an explosion of pink clouds and confetti.

 

Pride fizzed up his throat, and with Yuuri’s broadening smile (click) (click) he simply couldn’t take it any longer. He took off, hurdling to the bedroom. The shakiness of his hands was ignored as he dug into his drawers and found the blue-wrapped gift just under his Third Tuesday socks. Just as quickly he returned before Yuuri with whitening knuckles clutching it, bouncing from one foot to the next.

Yuuri looked at his expression with one of amused bewilderment, drifting his eyes to the gift and then swiftly back up with a renewed spark. “ **コレは何**?”

He was only just able to arrest himself from shoving it into his hands and pleading with him to ‘open it open it open it’. Bowing down at the waist, Victor held the soft package in both his hands and presented it. With that, his cheeks bloomed in mortification at his near miss faux-pas. “Please accept this…?” 

With a chuckle, Yuuri patted Victor’s hands before using them to hold the gift in his own. “A Christmas present?”

“ _Hai_ … For you.”

It seemed to be Yuuri’s turn to blush. “Oh… It does feel weird, getting a gift when it’s your birthday tomorrow...”

Victor looked down. “It’s weird?”

“N-not the gift itself…!” Yuuri spluttered immediately in reply. 

Victor looked up again, shifting his hands to release the gift into Yuuri’s hold for further inspection. A wave of nerves flushed over him to see Yuuri curiously turn it over in his hands, his fingers curling on the blue wrapping he so carefully picked out because it was so… Yuuri. 

“Am I okay to open it?” Yuuri asked, and Victor plucked himself out of his own mind, nodding furiously.

“Please.”

 

With a grin, Yuuri carefully pulled away the wrapping, presumably so they could reuse it some other time (oh how Victor loved how considerate Yuuri was). Finally unwrapping the layer of crinkly blue to uncover a deep royal blue beneath, Victor held his breath. 

Rapid heart thumps, like bombs firing next to his ears, the rumble of shockwaves quivering through Victor’s body as Yuuri let out a fluttering gasp. 

“Oh, Victor…” he breathed, fingers caressing blue wool. Warm, swirling chocolate eyes glazed up at Victor’s cold eyes with dilated black hole pupils. 

Victor held his hands together, gripping onto one another.

“It’s… you made this?” 

A shallow nod, a deep swallow. “Yes…” he nodded. He couldn’t quite gather the words together to explain that he had been working on it for months, and that the end result was the fourth reincarnation of his attempts to make it perfect; for if a single knit or pearl wasn’t up to par the entire structure would be undone, stripping layer after layer and allowing the wool to limply pool around, before looping the lacerated remains and building up the length again from scratch. The final scarf was the ultimate fusion of metres upon metres of repeatedly subjugated blue wool, and matched perfectly with Yuuri’s glasses.

Removing the excess wrapping, Victor held out his hand to shakily receive it. “It’s beautiful.” Yuuri aired, his voice quiet. Victor crinkled the wrapping his hand, and when Yuuri gazed down at the garment in his hands and then held it to his soft cheek it crumpled.

“You… you really think so?” was all Victor could scramble together, his systems overheating despite the chill waiting outside.

Those beautiful eyes gleamed at him, poking just above the wool. Yuuri nodded. “ **はい**. It’s so soft…” Taking the scarf, Yuuri looped it around his neck, smiling up at Victor again. 

“Thank you, Victor – it’s perfect.”

Perfect… Victor knitted his hands together. “I’m so glad…”

After a beat, Yuuri had taken those hands in his own. His lips pressed against them.

Victor forgot how to breathe.

 

Cold wind whisked by Victor’s ears, but he felt no chill. 

They always tried to go on walks together at the weekends, and they were always peaceful moments. Together they’d link arms or hands, and talk about everything and nothing while Makkachin would walk alongside them.

The outside was rather pleasant, Victor thought; or at least it was when he could snake his hands around Yuuri’s bicep and walk with their bodies so close that their hips almost bumped with every step (and thus Victor nearly blacked out with every step). The chill nibbled at his nose and ears, but thankfully Yuuri’s were spared by the… the scarf. 

Makkachin was currently padding down the paved path excitedly, looping between their legs and dashing in front of them to sniff around anything and everything, as it seemed that everywhere was a dog’s territory. 

“Hey, since when has Makkachin been able to walk without his lead?” Yuuri piped up, seemingly only just noticing that Makkachin wasn’t attached by a collar to either of them.

“What do you mean?” Victor asked.

“When I walked him, he’d shoot off like a bullet and I’d have to chase him up if he wasn’t clipped on.” Yuuri elaborated.

Victor shrugged. On their walks, Makkachin just… didn’t try to escape. It never occurred to him to use a lead. “I suppose he’s smart enough to know what he can get himself into by running away.”

“Perhaps he likes you too much to escape.” Yuuri teased, jostling Victor slightly.

“Or perhaps he’d know we’d miss him if he got lost.” Victor diverged.

 

“…Have you ever gotten lost as a child?” Yuuri asked suddenly.

“…Who, me?” Victor asked in return.

Yuuri reared his head to look to Victor’s empty left, then back at him. “Looks like it.” he grinned.

“Very funny.” Victor pouted.

“So, have you?” Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I…” Victor stammered. He then thought about it; he flicked through his mind. A child? Him?

Yuuri’s expression loosened. “If it’s not something you want to talk about, that’s okay. I can tell you about one of mine instead.”

“No, I… I can think of one.” Victor nodded, his mind grasping onto something. 

“Yes?” Yuuri coaxed. He remained patiently silent, his presence comforting Victor until he was ready to talk again.

“But… can you tell me yours first?”

“Yeah, of course.” Yuuri nodded in understanding. Then, he began recounting his story. A calm breeze lifted Yuuri’s fringe from his forehead and Victor had to remind himself thoroughly to pay attention. “My parents remind me about this one all the time. You see, it’s a tradition in a lot of families here to send their children from young ages, like three years old, to run ‘errands’. It’s to teach them about independence, but also how they can rely on their community to help them if they need it. Basically, it’s considered the first step a child takes into the adult world.”

“Oh! Like an initiation ritual?”

“I… suppose so?” Yuuri tilted his head. “The first errand is given to a child is usually to buy a few items from a コンビニ. And when I was three, I was sent with my older sister to buy milk and eggs. We had them both already, but...”

Victor perked up. “You have an older sister?”

“Eh? Her name’s Mari. Have I not mentioned her before?”

“No.” Victor pouted. 

“Oh…” Yuuri looked down, as if contemplating something, before looking back up again. “I looked up to her a lot, because she’s older and wiser and seemed to have her head on straight – definitely more than I ever did.”

“Like a mentor?”

“Like a sister.” Yuuri corrected with a smile. “Just little three-year-old me and my **お姉さん** … Within three steps from leaving our house, I started to cry.”

“Huh? Really?” Victor blurted. Oh no, a baby Yuuri in distress may be one of the worst things imaginable; he racked his brain in an effort to drown out the images that flashed in his mind.

“Yeah…” he chuckled lightly. “But, お姉さん took my hand and we walked together, saying ‘it’ll be okay, Yuuri’ even when I was crying and whining to go back home. We got to the little **コンビニ** and we got our shopping basket. Mari was small herself, but she carried the basket that was half her size, as well as her purse and my hand, like it was nothing.”

“Ah - _su-goi!_ ” Victor marvelled.

“I thought so too. I was still homesick, but seeing **お姉さん** made me want to help too. So, I let go of her hand and went running on ahead.” Yuuri mimed his speed by stabbing his arm through the air. “Apparently, she called out to me, but I didn’t hear.’

“I was so ready to surprise my sister by finding the groceries all by myself, but then occurred to me that I didn’t actually have any idea what we were supposed to buy – too busy clinging on to my mother to pay attention.” Yuuri shook his head with a fond smile gracing his lips. 

Victor laughed in response. He definitely could see that – even now Yuuri had to read off each item from the shopping list. He’d shrug it off by saying ‘I was just making sure’, but Victor suspected that Yuuri forgot mere seconds after looking. When he stopped, he saw that Yuuri was watching.

Yuuri quickly broke the contact, a flush across his cheeks (it was cold, after all, right?). “So, um, because of that, I had no idea what I was doing. But, when I turned around, all I saw were strangers. And when you’re a child, all strangers are these enormous faceless figures who just tower over you… and I couldn’t see my sister anywhere… so I was terrified; for the first time in my life, I was completely alone.”

“The first time? Ever?”

“Yeah, I stuck to my mother like glue when I was young. I was attached to my sister too, but I adored my mother the most because she spoiled me rotten. All my family did, really…” Yuuri hummed. 

“Oh…” Victor would’ve said ‘I see’, but he didn’t, and so he didn’t.

“So, obviously, I then begin crying again.” Yuuri shook his head in dismay. “I stayed stuck where I was, wailing, calling out for Mari and my mother. I thought I would be lost forever, and no one would ever find me.”

“That’s… that’s…” Victor mumbled. He couldn’t find the right words to say.

“But…!” Yuuri piped up, his pitch raising, “From seemingly nowhere, I hear someone calling my name. I look up, whipped my head around, and Mari was standing at the other side of the aisle, all red faced and breathless. I’d never been so relieved in my life; I ran over to her and tackled her into a hug, snotting all over her favourite shirt. Being the mature sister that she is, she thankfully didn’t seem to mind.”

Even though Victor clearly knew that Yuuri would’ve been found, he ended up feeling his own heart lighten in relief.

“As it turns out…” Yuuri sighed. “I was actually just one aisle across from where I ran away from my sister.”

“Oh…” Victor said, then picked up in laughter. “Aw, Yuuri, that’s adorable.”

Their hips collided, Yuuri haven bumped Victor in response to his fawning. “I was _three_.” He reminded. 

“Even more adorable.” Victor insisted with a curling grin, even with his mind whirring from the sudden contact. “Were you okay after that?”

Mellowing, Yuuri nodded. “Yeah, we got everything we needed. It must’ve been difficult for Mari, though, because I refused to let go of her hand in case I somehow got lost again.”

“Aww.” Victor cooed.

“Be quiet, you.” 

“So, it ended well…” Victor half-asked, because for all he knew it didn’t.

“Mhm.” Yuuri affirmed. 

 

It was peaceful for a few moments, before Yuuri piped up again: “What’s your story?”

Victor drained. The wind at his ears grew stronger, and he could barely hear himself speak. “… _My_ story?” he asked back.

“You said you had one, remember?”

He did… he did say that, didn’t he? He said it, but… for some reason, Victor hoped Yuuri would forget that he did. What he said to Yuuri was true, of course, but nonetheless… maybe it was something he couldn’t say. It wasn’t the same as Yuuri’s youthful mishaps. Whatever was crawling around in his mind that he had caught onto was a slithering slug of remembrance; a sticky, trailing reminder that served only to slink around where ever Victor confined it. He knew he couldn’t lie to Yuuri and say he’d forgotten, and yet… and yet… 

And yet he couldn’t say it. Because then it would be released, and it would coat everything he’d created in a thick coating of bile.

What was he to do?

…what other option was there?

Victor found that his legs had stopped moving, his feet grating heavily against the path. After Yuuri’s arm was tugged backwards, he too stopped.

“…Victor?” Yuuri asked with a furrow of concern across his brow. Victor compressed the curl of his hands around Yuuri’s arm. “Victor, what’s wrong?”

“I…” Victor’s head rose. Think… but not too much. The air stood still, if only for that moment; even the shaking branches of trees and the shimmering of the evergreen leaves ceased. His eyes closed.

 

("I was young. And… I was lost")

('Yes?')

("And… I was found, eventually.")

('Were you scared?')

("No, but I was when I was found.")

('When you were _found?_ How come?')

("…Because no one had ever found me before.")

 

Victor raised his head. They shared a silent look. 

Neither of them had opened their mouths. No words had been spoken. Nothing had escaped. 

“Victor…?” Yuuri uttered through the leaden silence, plumes of breath escaping between his lips as the… after the… after it had fallen down to just cover his chin. 

Victor felt like he’d driven a blade through his throat – he couldn’t swallow. 

What was he to do?

He couldn’t talk about it, any of it, but he couldn’t lie either. Yuuri, so caring and so attentive, would coax him for more, surely – but he couldn’t know. No, he couldn’t. If Yuuri knew that he couldn’t know, and why he couldn’t, then the conversation would be done with – but then Yuuri would never want to see him again, because Yuuri was just that wonderful. But to never see Yuuri again was something that would tear Victor apart, leaving him limp and useless like the subjugated threads of wool that pooled around him as he had sat in the middle of Yuuri’s living room, whitened knuckles pressed to his forehead while he muttered to himself ‘perfect perfect perfect has to be perfect’. 

That part of him was contained - the slug was that was not to be addressed - he wouldn’t acknowledge it anymore. He couldn’t stamp it out, because every time he tried it stuck to his foot and wound up regenerating, with stickier, tougher skin and slimier trails that gathered at the back of his throat and bubbled up.

So, instead, Victor sought where it was confined, at the back of his mind, and pushed it further. He managed to swallow the bile in his throat, and locked the door behind him. 

 

“Victor, are you okay? You don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want.”

Ah. Through the hazy grey clouds, Yuuri always broke through. He watched Victor with a worrying expression. What was his face looking like now? Oh, don’t worry – he fixed it. “Yes, of course.” And he was, because he made himself okay. Yuuri wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. He looked at Yuuri and smiled: “It’s a nice day, isn’t it?”

And after a moment, Yuuri slowly nodded. The wind picked up again. “Yes, it is.”

They continued on their walk.

 

What was that about eating healthily at lunch? The thought came to Victor as he sat on a small table, even smaller than the one at home, situated just outside a cute café. Despite Victor’s offer to get their lunch, Yuuri was insistent. He felt a little disorientated, not having any task to do at that moment, so he had turned to play with Makkachin instead. The dog seemed to be extremely satisfied with his day so far, wagging his tail by Victor’s feet before hitting it against his leg when he began to scratch under his chin.

When Yuuri emerged, carrying a tray of what Victor could only presume were sugary goodies, Victor shot up from his seat. “Do you need help, Yuuri?”

“Nah, I got it.” Yuuri waved off, lowering the tray onto their wobbly table, which he frowned at momentarily before looking back up to Victor. “I actually used to be a part-time waiter in my college days.”

“A waiter…” Victor pictured Yuuri fitted into the kind of outfit he saw on television: sleeveless waistcoats, white long-sleeved shirts and golden cuff links, fitted trousers and bowties. A dashing grin across his lips. “Oh my…”

A raise of an eyebrow; Yuuri seemed to have noticed something. “So, what can I get for you, sir?” he then asked, his voice changing in a way that made Victor’s cheeks heat up, and directed Victor’s eyes towards what was placed on the tray.

Colourful. That was the first impression Victor had. Two sizeable slices of vanilla sponge, iced and pumped full of fluffy white cream laced with bright red strawberries. On one of the slices, a thin chocolate oval rested between a whole strawberry and a piped cloud of cream. Colourful, and cute. On the left of one slice, and the right of the other slice, were two steaming cups of a warm, brown drink topped with beige foam and a sprinkling of powder that formed the shape of a heart. 

“ _Su-goi_ …” was what he managed to say. “What is it?” he followed, more bluntly than he wanted it to be.

Yuuri didn’t seem to notice, though, and presented them. “This,” he pointed to the drink, “is hot chocolate – powdered chocolate mixed with hot water or hot milk; but this place mixes it with milk, which means it’ll be very rich tasting. And this,” he pointed to the cake, “is Christmas cake.”

“Oh, Christmas cake! I read about this.”

“ **はい**. It’s normal strawberry shortcake, but _Christmas_.” Yuuri waved his fanned hands, which made Victor laugh. 

“Is it _oishi_?”

“I can recommend it, sir.” Yuuri teased. That voice again; Victor nearly squeaked.

He spoke in a flurry of excitement, “I’ll try it!”

“Okay, **どうぞ**.” Yuuri smiled, lifting a cup from the tray and placing it in front of him, followed by a slice of the cake, before doing the same for himself. 

“Please enjoy.” He then said, before bubbling with laughter. “It’s fun acting as a waiter.” 

“And it’s fun watching you be a waiter.” The sort of ‘fun’ that Victor wasn’t even sure was fun, but assumed it was, even if it felt a bit… heavier, somehow. His eyes flitted down to his cake, and his eyes burst wide. Oh, with that he felt like he would burst – he was splitting at the seams already, but perhaps this…

Yuuri had given him the piece with the chocolate rectangle on it.

Eyes peered up to match Yuuri’s, and he was given a smile; his eyes creasing, his cheeks widening, his lips pink, and his cheeks and nose dusted with a dash of redness from the cold.

Oh, Yuuri was perfect.

 

By the time they had finished, it was long past lunch, but by that point Victor’s schedule had, dare he say it, not even crossed his mind. In fact, by the time they got home, Victor would have to begin cooking dinner – ha! And they’d only just had lunch! Wow, the holidays had so many unexpected twists, and despite not having a set plan for, well, anything, Victor was content with just being able to indulge in curling up to Yuuri as they strolled down the path. 

Beside him, Yuuri had begun to fidget. 

Victor had come to understand that Yuuri didn’t always fidget just because he had a problem, but he also knew it was good to ask regardless of his assumptions. “Are you okay, darling?” No reply. Yuuri seemed to have his head caught in the clouds. “Yuuri, darling?”

Still nothing.

“Yuuuuuuri?” Victor cooed, which seemed to finally grasp Yuuri’s attention.

“Yes, _Vic_ – I mean, Victor?” Yuuri stammered. 

“Are you okay, darling?” he repeated, softening his voice even more just in case Yuuri was having a problem.

“I, uh, yes!” Yuuri nodded.

“You weren’t responding to me originally.” Victor pointed out with a tilt of his head.

“Ah, oh… I’m sorry, were you talking about something?”

Victor blinked at him. “…no?”

“Oh, okay…”

Deciding it might not be too intrusive to ask out of curiosity, Victor then asked: “what were you thinking about?”

“Um…” Yuuri lowered his head. “I’m not ready to say yet…”

“Oh, I see.” Victor was truthful with that because he could understand it. 

 

So, he decided to divert the conversation, in case he started to make Yuuri uncomfortable by lingering on the subject. “As it so happens, I was thinking how I’d have to start making dinner soon after we got home; and I thought how strange that was, since we just had lunch – it’s strange, right? – but I’m not sure what to cook, because I usually have a rota, but since it’s Christmas Eve I thought we’d have something special, and since you treated me to lunch I was wondering what you’d like—”

“Actually…!” Yuuri broke in, and then his voice shrivelled up as if he didn’t realise that he had even started speaking.

“…actually?” Victor raised an eyebrow. Makkachin rubbed against his leg for a moment, and he took a second to reach down and pat at his head before releasing him to explore again.

“Actually, I uh…” Yuuri repeated. The sounds of their footsteps were all they could hear for a few moments of time, before Yuuri spoke quietly. “Can… we stop?”

 

Without thinking about it for even a second, he stopped. 

Yuuri turned to him. His wonderful soft hands reached for his, and their fingers curled into each other. 

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Victor questioned, his voice low. Was it bad news? Bad news had so many faces, and any one of them could be disastrous.

Yuuri shook his head silently. “Nothing’s wrong…” he denied firmly.

“…is this about what you’d like for dinner?”

“No… I-I mean… But… I mean, no… no.” Yuuri looked down at their hands. He held his breath for a while before releasing it and letting it plume in the air.  
Victor firmed up his clasp on Yuuri’s hand. “You know you can tell me anything. I’ll be willing to do whatever you want me to do.”

“Victor…” Yuuri gazed up into his eyes. They’d become more rounded, and flooded with tenderness. “Victor…” he repeated. He closed his eyes, and bounced on his toes for several beats. 

 

“Victor, do you want to go to a… to a love hotel with me?” Yuuri forced out, and immediately afterwards his face burst out red.

 

In a split second, Victor burst out, gripping Yuuri’s hands and pulling them to his chest. His mouth spread into a beam. “Really? A love hotel on Christmas Eve!?” he bubbled.  
Yuuri gaped at him. “You’re… you’re sure it’s not weird?”

“What? Why would it be weird?” Victor furrowed his brow incredulously. Love hotels were hotels for couples, right? And they were a couple – specifically a ‘labu-labu’ couple, whatever that meant – and saying that alone was enough to make Victor have to keep himself from squealing; so, the mere idea of staying in a romantic hotel room specifically for couples made Victor’s head spin with delirium.

“You’re really okay with it? You’ve surely done research on love hotels, right?”

Victor nodded. Yuuri knew that he liked to research everything they encountered; he was always trying to reach some level of comprehension of Yuuri’s world. The first time they drank green tea together, Victor had spent hours reading the history of tea production in Japan; and the first time Yuuri showed him a video game he played on his phone, Victor went on to research and memorise all eight hundred and sixteen of the strange little animal-monster-plant-ghost-amalgamation type things and compiled a comprehensive map detailing where Yuuri would be most likely to find the ‘rarest’ ones. Likewise, after he first heard of love hotels from his fellow homemakers at their bi-weekly knitting meetings (apart from every third Tuesday because it clashed with the others’ dance fitness), endless searches for love hotels berated Yuuri’s laptop – Victor was hard at work looking at endless photos and reviews of the many, many love hotels scattered around Tokyo. While he couldn’t understand any of the reviews in terms of what they actually said, the five-star reviews and the little thumbs-up picture things were more than enough to tell Victor that people were most definitely satisfied with the service love hotels provided. 

“So, you know what they’re for?” Yuuri asked further.

“Uh-huh. For couples, right?” Victor beamed.

“Um… yeah, for… for couples.” Yuuri flushed – adorable. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Why, of course!” Victor replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world; and for all Victor knew, it was.

Yuuri seemed a little taken aback. Victor then watched his head bob slowly. “Yeah… yeah, of course…” 

“You appear surprised.” Victor noticed.

“Well, yes. I knew you were interested in them, but…” 

“Are you not?” Victor asked further.

Yuuri flailed his hands. “I am! I mean, I…”

Raising his thumb to brush at Yuuri’s cheekbone, Victor softened at his bashfulness. “It’s okay to be nervous, but if you don’t want to…”

“I do.” Yuuri stated firmly. “I just…” he shook his head. “Let’s talk more at home, okay? You must be cold.”

Victor only noticed it was cold once Yuuri said it was. “Shouldn’t you be cold?” he deflected.

“ **いいえ** , this scarf is keeping me warm.” Yuuri said, renewing the clasp of his hand around Victor’s as they begun to walk again.

Victor hummed in response, and leaned his face down into Yuuri’s shoulder.

 

Success – Victor at least managed to make a light dinner. Miso soup, rice, mackerel and pickled vegetables. He’d read before cooking that it was typical for Japanese families to eat fried chicken on Christmas, and while he knew Yuuri would be impressed if he made it that day, he also wanted Yuuri to at least have one sustainable meal that day. So, he instead promised to make it the next day instead, which Yuuri was impressed with.

“You’ll make the fried chicken?” Yuuri had widened his eyes. “Won’t that be difficult?”

“Not at all,” Victor had waved off in response. “It’ll be better to have homemade anyhow.”

He just hoped he could get Yuuri to like it.

 

“Which love hotel are we going to, Yuuri?” Victor brought up as Yuuri was finishing a mouth of mackerel.

“Oh, um,” Yuuri mumbled, swallowed and continued on: “I suppose it depends on whichever ones are available. They open at nine, but since it’s Christmas Eve they’ll probably be full quickly.”

“Christmas Eve is a romantic holiday here after all.”

“Yeah…” Yuuri nodded while trying to subtly push some select vegetables to the side of his dish (and there Victor thought for a moment that he could sneak them in without Yuuri noticing).

“Will Makkachin be okay?” Victor perked up, the concern for the dog flooding him suddenly, the clouds of romance haven mostly fogged up his mind.

“Yeah, yes, of course he’ll be okay.” Yuuri assured. “I’ve left Makkachin for a few hours before.”

“But a few hours isn’t the same as overnight.” Victor fretted.

Yuuri stopped mid-chew. “Overnight?”

“Yes?” Victor asked back. “You stay in hotels overnight.”

“Overnight…” Yuuri repeated.

“There’s no point in not staying overnight, otherwise we won’t get the full experience.” Victor expanded.

“Oh…” Yuuri said quietly, and then allowed his lips to quirk up slightly. “I see...”

Victor was slightly confused with Yuuri’s reaction, but decided to focus on the more pressing matter. “You’re sure that Makkachin will be okay?”

Seeming to gather himself, Yuuri nodded. “I’m sure. Besides, the neighbours have our number in case something happens.”

“…In case something happens?”

Yuuri let his eyes fall upon Victor’s. He softened his posture. “Nothing will happen, Victor… It’s a quiet neighbourhood; I was just saying…”

But why would he need to say that unless there were a possibility that—no. No, no. Stop. And so, Victor stopped. He realised then that instead of eating his meal he had been chewing at his nails (since when did he do that?). 

In the next second, the weight of Yuuri’s foot pressed against Victor’s calf. Meeting eyes again, Yuuri gave him a smile. Victor reciprocated, nudging his foot against Yuuri’s ankle and extracting a small chuckle from Yuuri in response.

Victor focused on the way Yuuri smiled.

 

Before they had left they washed the dishes together, and Victor noticed that every so often Yuuri would look over to him, and every time Victor would return his look he would dust his cheeks and look back down only to sneak another peek a few moments later. Victor wasn’t sure how to bring that up, or even if it was a thing he ought to bring up. So, he left it.

Yuuri had offered to turn on the television on before they stepped out into the evening, so that Makkachin wouldn’t be lonely. Well, Victor hoped that Makkachin would be able to enjoy the show Yuuri had switched on to – the plot was all over the place, and the so-called ‘violence’ was completely unrealistic, but at least it would be enough to pass the hours.

 

As they walked, the evening sky was littered with bright white stars. They stretched for miles upon miles across; hundreds and hundreds of specks that were so, so small and yet twinkled with such effort that Victor remarked how they may even believe that if they tried hard enough that they would be able to light up the night sky with the same luminescence as the moon which effortlessly illuminated the earth despite its waning shape. Still, it didn’t change the fact that Victor was captivated by their sheer will and numbers.

“Yuuri, do you know how many stars there are?”

“Huh?” Yuuri reacted, which Victor understood, as it was an unprovoked question that arrived in from nowhere. Yuuri then hummed at the query and considered it. “Gosh, I suppose there’s millions.”

“Millions…” Victor repeated, looking up again at them all straining to gleam down at him.

Yuuri followed his eyes and let out an awed gasp. “ **すごい**! There’s so many tonight.” Yuuri then chirped. “Usually you can’t see them because of all the light pollution, but they seemed to have just… appeared.”

Ah. Victor pieced it all together - that must have been why he noticed them.

“Strange…” Yuuri mused, but did not appear too worried by it; it was not a negative thing, after all. There were so many stars, and they were beautiful. But… “It’s amazing, right?” 

Yuuri beamed, his eyes shining and dazzling Victor’s senses. The stars in Yuuri’s eyes were infinite.

And how dearly did Victor wish he would be able to stay with Yuuri and count each of them.

 

They knew when they had eventually stumbled upon the flow of love hotels when the neon signs and… _alternative_ exterior design popped into view. Wow, there were a lot of them. 

Standing on the edge of the path, just before the turn in to one of many flocks of hotels, Victor thought it was best to say: “what do we do now?”

And Yuuri most likely thought it was best to reply: “I… have no idea.”

It comforted Victor to know that they were experiencing this for the first time together, it made a pleasant change. Victor took Yuuri’s hand in hopes of giving him similar assurance.

Yuuri turned to him slightly. “It’s my… my treat tonight, so… choose any one you like.”

“Oh!” Victor sparked. He became excited with the prospect of choosing his and Yuuri’s shelter for the night, and he knew how seriously he needed to take this responsibility. “Leave it to me.” he nodded. Carefully, with an analytical eye, Victor combed through each of the flashy buildings, squinting and considering each one which an equal amount of scrutiny. Whichever one he chose would have to be perfect, or at least as perfect as it could possibly get. Eventually, he chose one, nodding in approval when Yuuri looked to him for confirmation.

The exterior of this love hotel in particular was layered with structures of love-hearts in reds and pinks, climbing up the sides and bulging out; all the pictures on a sign outside provided showed happy looking couples with big grins on their faces, caught mid-laughter as they flayed against soft-looking beds.

Victor turned to Yuuri - thumbs up – this was the one.

 

There were no people inside when they walked in, and momentarily Victor thought it was closed despite the lights being turned on. Yuuri then directed Victor towards a panel displaying different pictures of what he assumed were the rooms, the angles of which directed towards similar-looking beds. According to Yuuri (and so it was definitely true) most love hotels didn’t have any front-desk attendees to ensure the anonymity of customers; in fact, they will probably have no interaction with any real people for the duration of their stay. Victor thought it was strange.

“You pick the room, darling.” Victor insisted, leaving his apprehension to the side and instead looked ahead at the panel.

“ **ああ**... **はい**.” Yuuri started to muse over the pictures. Hovering his finger over one, Yuuri wavered slightly. “We… want to stay overnight, yes?”

“ _Hai._ ” Victor replied immediately.

“O-okay…”

He tapped on one of the pictures, which brought up the picture in a bigger size, with new text and numbers, and more option boxes. Tapping on the left box, Yuuri waited a few moments before perking at a piece of paper that pumped out of a machine beside the panel. He tore it off, and waved it in front of Victor.

“Our room awaits.”

 

After scanning the printed pass, the wooden door with their room number on swung open to reveal a short-lived hallway halted with another door. They both shuffled in, greeted by two pairs of indoor sandals. Yuuri seemed softly amused as Victor marvelled at how they gave them shoes to use and wondered aloud what else the hotel thought to provide them with. 

“Do they fit alright?” Yuuri asked, squeezing in his own pair.

“ _Hai!_ They actually fit me!” Victor exulted. If there was one thing Japan struggled with, it would be manufacturing well-fitting shoes for him. Yuuri never had this problem, at least.

“Ohh, **おめでとう** , clown-feet-san.” Yuuri congratulated.

“My feet are of normal size, _ah-ri-ga-to_.” Victor defended lightly with a scrunch of his nose. 

“ **はい** , **はい** …” Yuuri teased, watching Victor finish shifting around in his shoes to ensure their stability. 

Feeling a hand slip into his own, Victor glinted towards Yuuri, whose chest rose and sunk back on itself. “Are you okay, darling?” 

“Yeah, yes.” Yuuri hummed with a sharp nod of his head. Reaching his hand, the door’s handle was pulled down and pushed to reveal a bright yellow light.

 

Once he’d adjusted his eyes, Victor widened to the new environment surrounding him. “ _Su-goi!_ ” he resounded, spinning around in place to get a good eyeful of everything. It was exactly like how the pictures portrayed: a big comfy bed, a wide television fixed into the deep red wall, coffee tables and cushy loveseats – and that was just one room!

The bed, in that moment, looked especially inviting, but just as Victor was about to faceplant onto it Yuuri let out a noise that drew his immediate attention. 

“Don’t get on that bed just yet…” Yuuri held out his arms, his face cautious. Swiftly, he moved over to the light switch and flicked it off, engulfing the once bright and appealing room in darkness.

“…Yuuri? Yuuri?” he called out, holding an arm out but feeling nothing.

“Hang on…” Yuuri mumbled, fumbling around with something before a neon purple light shone like a helicopter’s spotlight. “Just to be sure…”

“Darling, what are you doing?” Victor puzzled. A black light? Yuuri had a black light? Why would someone like Yuuri need something like that? 

The purple light flicked across the covers of the bed and pillows, doing nothing but highlighting them in purple – the same came when he lifted the covers and scanned over again. After a quick once-over of the surrounding surfaces, Yuuri let out a heavy sigh of… relief? What was Yuuri looking for? The only possible thing Victor could think of was… no. No, no one would ever think of doing such a thing at a love hotel of all places. The idea was preposterous, so why was it in Yuuri’s mind? To be concerned about it enough to buy a… a black light? Why would… Yuuri…

The main light blared on, catching Victor off-guard, leaving him staring out like a deer caught in head lights. Yuuri casually looked over to him and paused. Realising Yuuri was looking at him, Victor fixed his face. 

“Victor?” Yuuri voiced, haven switched off the mini black light, around the same size as a tiny pocket torch. 

He wanted to ask about it, and he nearly did. Very, very nearly. But he didn’t. He didn’t, because he didn’t want to hear Yuuri’s answer. For once… for once, for the first time ever, Victor didn’t wish to know Yuuri’s thinking. And that made a lump gather in his throat. 

 

“You can continue with your faceplant now.” Yuuri motioned with a smile, so casual and light. Victor’s brain fizzed. 

With all that built up in those last moments, Victor surmised that the only way to dispel it was to just do as he was told; allowing his face, followed by the slump of the rest of his body, to flump heavily into the bed that, for some reason, was not as soft as he first thought it would be. Motionless, he could feel his weight sink into the mattress.

“Excellent landing.” Yuuri cheered with a bubble of laughter. Despite himself, Victor muffled a snicker into the mattress. Yuuri made everything easier, somehow.

Feeling a sudden sink in the bed along with a heavy flop, Victor twisted his neck in time to see Yuuri’s legs collapse simultaneously, with his upper body already planted down level with his. Victor let out another tittering laugh. “Wonderful.” Victor similarly approved. 

Humming, Yuuri focused his gaze on him. “What would you rate it?”

“Hmm… Nine-point-five.”

“Eh? What about the other point-five?” 

Victor shrugged. “Not enough dramatics.”

Yuuri re-positioned himself so that his one of his legs bent at the knee, the other angled in the air. “Now?”

Mulling it over, Victor rescored: “Eight-point-five.”

“Ehh!? I dropped a point?” Yuuri gaped.

“ _Hai._ ”

“What for?” Yuuri faux-huffed, trying to make his face look upset.

“For questioning my original judgement.” Victor grinned, casting him a wink for good measure. 

Yuuri burst out cackling, shying his face into the feathery pillow. “You’re unfair, Victor…” 

Victor hummed. 

“You want to know what I rate you?” Yuuri piped up.

“Hmm? My rating?” Victor raised an eyebrow. “How intriguing.” He then urged. 

 

After a moment, Yuuri raised himself and, in a swift forwards swipe, left a benign kiss on the corner of Victor’s mouth. “A ten. Point five.” He said quietly so that his words tingled against his skin, the way Victor adored, like they were the only two beings in the world. A ten… hm? Big brown eyes trained on him, dripping with silken richness. 

Oh… oh, maybe the bed was soft after all. He sunk into it. “Yuuri…” Victor breathed. Without another word, Yuuri followed up on that first kiss with one on the edge of his jaw. His lips hovered over Victor’s mouth for a moment but then, as if remembering something, diverted to the exposed skin on his neck, his wonderful lips pressing into his pulse. It was soft… It was soft after all… And, and… Victor couldn’t describe it, the feeling. It was… Victor was… _melting_ …

After a minute or so, Yuuri sat back up with a reluctant hum, saying that they ‘shouldn’t get carried away so soon’.

“Huh?” Victor dazed, blinking up at Yuuri. He may not have been able to tell left from right in that moment, but at the very least he could register that someone was missing from his arms. “Yuuri…” he then whined. 

“Don’t you want to explore the rest of the room?” Yuuri then approached, a curling smile on his face. He seemed pleased with himself for something. 

Explore. “Yeah…” Victor stirred. “I want to… let’s explore.” He shot up, then winced slightly at his haste-induced headache as the blood abruptly rushed to his head. 

“Careful.” Yuuri shook his head, offering his hand to Victor, which he instinctively took, and was helped to his feet. He felt strange. It was a familiar strangeness, but… different somehow. He didn’t divulge this to Yuuri, because he wasn’t sure what it would mean. 

Yuuri poked his head through a door, flicking on the light. “Woah.”

“What is it?” Victor reared his head in Yuuri’s direction. He stood up from fiddling with a drinks dispenser and tottered over to him. 

A bath – or should he say a jacuzzi? A pool? – was the obvious centrepiece of this bathroom, much larger than the one they had at home; so much so that Victor didn’t doubt that they would both fit very comfortably into said bath without any issue. 

“We could share a bath.” Victor pointed out the obvious. 

Yuuri visibly reacted to that. “I… Yes, we could. Do you want to?”

Realising that he once again had spoken without thinking it over properly, and then processing what was said, Victor felt a weighty thump against his chest – an internal punch in the ribs. He’d never shared a bath with Yuuri before. He’d sat with him though, wh—“Yes. I do want to.” He burst.

Blinking over, Yuuri looked between them. “…we’re still wearing our coats.”

Victor scanned his body. “Ah. So we are.” 

When he looked up, Yuuri looked back at him. “…do you want to have that bath now?”

 

Somehow, with the thundering sound of the bath tap, Yuuri got out of the bathroom so that Victor could get ready. He’d already given Yuuri his coat to hang, so now Yuuri presumably waited outside the door, ready for Victor to hand over his clothes. 

Victor looked around the room, reaching under and over every surface and object. There was no turn up of anything, and soon all the mirrors were turned to face the wall. He released the breath he didn’t notice he was holding, but then ended up confining it within his chest again. Shaky hands grasped and tugged to his tie, forcing them to relax in their grip after a few stiff moments.

Eventually, his clothes were handed over.

 

The scolding bathwater simmered at Victor’s shoulders, and he curled up his knees so they touched his bare chest. Foamy bubbles tingled at his arms.

“Can I come in now?” the words rattled.

Could he? “Yes, of course, darling.” He called out, and it was true. It really was.

Yuuri padded into the bathroom, having already traded his clothes for a sparkling white robe. In one hand he cradled two empty champagne flutes and in the other a full bottle of champagne, with the cork already popped off. Where did he get that from? How long did it take him to get ready? “How’s my look?” Yuuri directed towards his robe.

“Dashing.” Victor beamed. Very true, too. He held out his hands as Yuuri passed off the glasses and bottle.

With a curling smile, Yuuri reached down to the knotted tassel around his waist. Victor didn’t see any more than that – he was pouring drinks. He looked again when the water shifted and swished against his skin; Yuuri continued to smile as he got comfortable in the bath. 

“ **乾杯**!”

“ _Kan-pai._ ”

Based on his estimations, their bodies were around sixty-five-point-three-four centimetres apart, judging by the distance between Yuuri’s elbow and Victor’s knees. They sat on opposite ends of the bath, Yuuri with his head tilted back onto the tiled wall, and Victor watching the tiny waves of water slosh up against the rim.

Languidly sipping from the flute Victor had given, Yuuri looked relaxed. Victor found it strange. But then, what should he have been feeling at that moment? What was he feeling? It was a strange gurgle in his stomach that ruptured upwards, rattling through to his throat where it bred and surged. He knew the water was hot, and yet he was frozen. Every move of Yuuri’s body made him jerk and shiver.

Yuuri was Yuuri, and so it should be fine. It should be okay with Yuuri. And yet… and yet… 

He drew his hand from the water, and it was quaking. 

What was wrong with him?

“ **ね** , Victor…” Victor heard the voice vibrate off the walls. Taking the focus from his hand, he saw Yuuri with his lips pressed together in a near-bursting wobble, with thick layers of the soap bubbles coating around his chin and under his nose. 

“Pfft—” Victor spluttered. Senselessly, his hand dropped back into the water, and an uproar of undisciplined laughter seized him. 

A corresponding ripple resounded from Yuuri.

“Wh…what is that!?” Victor gushed.

“A beard. Does it suit me?”

“I…” Victor couldn’t finish his sentence. It was almost embarrassing how abrasive he was being all of a sudden. He took a gulp of his champagne but found himself gargling it down as Yuuri tried to further shape his soap beard.

“ **何が**? Have you not done this before, Victor?”

He shook his head ‘no’.

“Try it. I think it’ll look _dashing_ on you.” Yuuri imitated, sipping down the remainder of his glass.

“All right then.” Victor took on the task, cupping handfuls of soap in his hands. He asked Yuuri to look away so that it’d be a surprise, and so Yuuri began busying himself with topping up their glasses. After a few minutes of careful sculpturing of this ‘soap beard’, he called for Yuuri’s judgement.

Seconds of processing later, Yuuri was laughing all over again, as if he didn’t also have half his face covered in white bubbles. “ **すごい** , you look like Santa-san. Or, like—” he spluttered, “Colonel Sanders.”

Victor considered this for a moment. At first, ‘Colonel’ sounded very respectable, but then he remembered the face and name of both figures from his numerous Christmas-orientated internet searches. “… _Ah-ri-ga-to_.” 

This made Yuuri nearly red enough to burst, his laughter filling the space between them. He lifted his flute in front of Victor. “To you, Colonel.”

With a residing chuckle, Victor rose and clinked his own glass against Yuuri’s. “To _us_ , Santa-san.”

“Ha!” Yuuri burst, then tilting his head to smile at Victor; even when his face was covered ridiculously in bubbles, Yuuri was always perfect. “To us…”

“To us.”

 

Victor had soon consumed three flutes of champagne, while Yuuri seemed to find it more efficient to just drink from the bottle after the second glass. As it turns out, Yuuri had a lower tolerance than Victor thought he would.

When their eyes met, they would split into laughter; and Victor couldn’t control it. It was uneasy, but Victor saw no issue in it at that time.

“Hey… Vi – _hic_ – Vic…tor.” Yuuri drawled. 

Victor rounded his eyes to Yuuri, pink cheeked and glassy-eyed; the bubbles on his (and Victor's) face had mostly subsided, leaving large patches of pinkening skin behind. “Yes, darling?” he replied, feeling a slight slurring in his own speech. His head felt hazy.

“Victor…” the word dripped from his lips. “You know… you’re so beautiful.” Yuuri swooned, half-lidding his eyes. “How… did y’… did you get so beautiful?

“H-huh?” Victor dropped, his heart catching on itself, pumping out around an arrow that had just been shot through it. The words that just came from Yuuri’s mouth…

“Because Vic-tor is the most beautiful in the whole world.”

Yuuri was never this… Never this… unabashed. Yes, he was direct, definitely; his bluntness was something that always caught Victor off-guard, yet… when was Yuuri ever _this_ blunt? So… so… He opened his mouth, as if to respond (thank? Apologise? Deny? Refute?), but nothing came out.

“Victor… you’re the most beautiful-est ever…” Yuuri slurred.

“You’re not making sense.” Victor chuckled, because he wasn’t sure what else to do. Yuuri wasn’t intoxicated, but definitely not sober. 

 

“I’ll keep saying it!” Yuuri proclaimed, slamming his fist in the water and spraying water on his own face, but he didn’t even flinch. “I don’t tell you enough and it’s Chri’mas.”

Victor held his hand out, and Yuuri unconsciously gave him the bottle while he continued talking, and he placed it on the floor.

 

“Just like, dishes.” Yuuri said, paused for a while and then continued, possibly after realising that he hadn’t said anything other than that: “You’ll just be standing there, just doing dishes. And then I just look at you and it’s like ‘ _wow that’s what the most beautiful person alive looks like_ ’ – _hic_ – and then I can’t believe that someone like me, an English teacher from nowhere, is with someone as amazing as you and I think to myself ‘I must have done something amazing in some past life to be able to be with you’ because, I – _hic_ – I can barely think of any other explanation.”

Victor wasn’t melting. He was melting and freezing. He was burning and thawing. He was nothing and nowhere and Yuuri was looking right at him – right at him – like he was _everything_ and _everywhere_. He wanted to tell Yuuri that the opposite was true; but even though he wanted to, Victor was sure that he’d surely dissolve into the remaining soap suds and be washed down the drain the nanosecond after the first syllable would slip. What was wrong with him? 

Yuuri tilted his head, a nail gracing over his reddened top lip. “You look pale…”

Victor lifted a paling hand to his cheek. His skin was hot. “Oh…”

Even when clearly tipsy, Yuuri showed concern. Even though didn’t need to, not any more. “Are you going to be sick?”

He stayed still. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

“We’ve… we’ve – _hic_ \- been in here for too long anyway.” Yuuri said, easing his way up. Victor diverted his eyes. “Victor…?”

“I…” Victor mumbled. “Yeah…” he heard Yuuri stumble out of the bath and shrug on his bathrobe. 

Victor stayed in there, his knees still hitched up to his chest, until Yuuri eventually edged out of the bathroom. For a second, he thought he could feel the outline of his heart strain against his flesh.

The door was still bolted closed.

 

In due course he emerged from the bathroom, tassels neatly fastened. The room was cast in low lighting, the walls dimly glowing around him. Yuuri, who was mindlessly flicking through television channels, perked up. 

“You were in there a while - feeling any better?” Yuuri asked. He cradled a bottle of water, and was no longer slurring his words as badly. No hiccups either. Still, he knew Yuuri wouldn’t have sobered up already.

“ _Hai_ …” Victor said cautiously. The bed weighed down as he perched on the edge.

“What was it?”

“I’m not sure…” Victor muttered.

“Well, what did - did you feel?”

“I’m… not sure.” Victor repeated. Yuuri seemed equally as confused. “I think we drank that champagne too fast.” He then suggested to ease him.

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah, I suppose. But you’re better now?” 

Victor gave a nod. He budged on the bed, moving closer towards Yuuri and peering at the TV screen. It appeared to be showcasing the typical late-night programmes that reran the same episodes over-and-over in loops as if no one who stayed awake would notice. “It doesn’t look like there’s anything worth watching…”

 

A heavy silence grew. 

“ **ね** , Vic…tor.” Yuuri said softly, and Victor shifted himself towards Yuuri, whose eyes gleamed. “What do you think we should do?” Silken touches smoothed across  
Victor’s hand. Victor’s eyes were wide and concentrated, centralising the blush on Yuuri’s cheeks right under his eyes with dilated pupils that ogled him. 

His other hand, without even realising it, raised to cup Yuuri’s jawline. Champagne bubbles tingled in his brain and behind his eyes. A quick heat grew over his face. What was it? What was this? “I… don’t know.” 

Yuuri’s bottom lip caught itself between Yuuri’s teeth, and he grinned. When Yuuri’s lip released itself, he edged forward.

“Yuuri…” Victor breathed. That was all he knew for sure at that moment: Yuuri. “Please…” he slipped.

“Please?”

“Please tell me… tell me I’m beautiful again… please.” Victor uttered, his garbled words grinding down in his skull.

Yuuri’s perfect eyes gazed upon him like he was something; and his fingers eased along his stringent flesh. “You’re _beautiful_ , Victor. Everything about you is beautiful.” 

The Victor that always tried so hard to get praise from Yuuri, to be complimented and smiled upon, was getting called beautiful while he donned nothing but a wet robe, with his hair stringy and damp against his forehead. It was always a lot of things, but never before had it been ‘beautiful’. Never. “Yuu-ri… please…” he begged, but he didn’t know what he was asking for anymore.

Victor’s hands rattled their way to grasp at Yuuri’s waist. Yuuri’s forehead leaned against his, words susurrating and fervid: “… **ぼく に ふれる** … **僕 に キスしる** …”

 

Victor was burning. Oh, was he burning? The feeling, what words would describe it accurately? Fun wasn’t correct anymore. Maybe it was good, but maybe it was too much to bear.  
There was nothing but the feeling that threw him and the ardour of Yuuri’s embrace.

Yuuri’s arms were warm and safe. Yuuri’s words were clean and lovely. Yuuri’s breath tasted of champagne. Yuuri was perfect.

And Victor… But Victor… Yet Victor… had never before been ‘beautiful’. 

 

Yuuri’s lips met the back of Victor’s tremoring hand, which he clutched over his mouth.

With wide eyes, Yuuri drew back. “Victor…?”

Victor’s chest inflated like a balloon and deflated just the same.

“What’s wrong? Victor?” 

A hand reached. His body jerked. The soft bed was dramatically contrasted to a momentary grasp of nothing and then the unyielding solidness of the ground which his back slammed into with a resounding thump. 

“やばい!” Yuuri gasped, scrambling off the bed. He watched Yuuri rush to his side, stumbling slightly in his mildly inebriated state. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Victor shook his head. “Darling, I’m…” he was about to reassure him, but he wound his mouth shut and couldn’t say any more because he refused to lie. His mind was adrift.

 

After Yuuri eased the dazed Victor onto the bed again, it was quiet for a while. They both stared up at the dark glow of the ceiling and listened to the faint chattering of the television. 

“I’m sorry.” Victor uttered, so quietly and yet it bellowed in his ears.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He heard Yuuri deny. 

The back of his head roused. “It felt like I did.”

A deep sigh heaved from Yuuri’s direction. “I was going too fast; I do that when I drink, without thinking – but that’s no excuse.”

Victor didn’t completely understand what Yuuri meant; but he knew that he didn’t want Yuuri to blame himself for something that Victor could be certain wasn’t his fault. He scrounged for something that could relieve him. “Well, I had fun.” 

“...you did?”

“Of course I did.” Victor nodded. “Being with you is always fun.”

“But,” Yuuri broke in. Victor turned his head to see Yuuri fumbling with something: some word, or thought, or idea. “Victor, just then you looked...”

“What? How did I look?” Victor’s brow furrowed.

“Like… like you were… _afraid_ …”

 

Victor blinked. He waited. Then he blinked again when nothing came. He waited for Yuuri’s face to cave in and start grinning, but it didn’t. 

Yuuri was waiting for _him_.

And Victor didn’t know what to do. 

“Were you afraid, Victor?” Yuuri implored, his eyes searching.

 _There_ was Yuuri’s direct questioning. A straight question that Victor just couldn’t answer; but required some kind of response. There was no point focusing on him at that time - he knew there was something that Yuuri himself was concerned about. So, he thought back; thought back on everything Yuuri had said to him, everything he did, everything he didn’t do. The hesitance, the questions; the black light, the drinking – they all culminated in Victor’s mind, and they painted one clear picture. “Were… were _you_ afraid?”

“…huh?”

“All night, I noticed you. The black light…”

“W-wait…”

“And Yuuri, you never drink excessively. I didn’t want to say anything, but-”

“Hey—”

“It just seems as if you were—”

“S-stop!” Yuuri snapped. Victor jerked, and Yuuri softened immediately as regret took over his expression. “I…”

Victor’s breath was shaky. He couldn’t believe what he just did; that he just hijacked Yuuri’s own concerns for him and—“Yuuri, I’m so sorry.”

Yuuri’s hand palmed against his own cheek. He looked down, his eyes darting as an indication of the whirlwind that his mind must have thrown itself into. Then, he shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I was just doing the same thing…”

“It’s not. It’s not. It’s really not. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you; I’m sorry too. Besides, it’s… true.” Yuuri admitted.

Victor gaped.

“I was really nervous about tonight. While I was excited too, I still had to work myself up to even ask you here. You were so excited for it, I wanted it to be perfect for our first Christmas Eve together. So, I drank and took precautions to make sure everything was… right. I ended up going too far.” He chuckled, but Victor could tell that Yuuri didn’t find anything about that funny. 

Victor furrowed his brow. He grasped onto a word that would best describe the day, even if it had become hazy. “But I had fun—”

“You don’t need to lie. Not to me.”

“I’m not lying.” Victor said vehemently. “I have never lied to you. _Never_.”

“Victor…”

“Today was one of the best days I’ve ever had. Walking Makkachin together, eating cake; even now, just sitting with you and talking to you about anything makes it better.” Victor insisted. 

Yuuri gazed at him, maintaining that same look. The look as if Victor was something. “Thank you, Victor.”

“For what?” Victor tilted his head.

“Being with me, and being honest with me.” Yuuri smiled. “But I’m sorry that tonight wasn’t exactly what you might have had in mind. Me getting tipsy and all, and you falling off the bed.”

 

At that, Victor hummed in amusement and mulled. Then, he shook his head. “Tonight was wonderful, because it was with you.”

Finally, Yuuri chuckled for real. “That’s the truth, huh?”

“I’d be lying if it wasn’t.”

Yuuri laughed harder. “Ah, you’re a dork.”

“Hmm, and you’re in danger of being lowered another point in your jumping score if you cause further insult.” Victor teased. 

“Ha – I’d like to see you try.” Yuuri scrunched his nose.

“I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again.” Victor vowed, smiling as Yuuri leaned in to gently peck at his nose.

“You wouldn’t…” Yuuri said as Victor allowed him to curl his arms around his shoulders. “I trust you.” 

 

Victor’s cheek rested itself on Yuuri’s shoulder. A simmering feeling of guilt churned his stomach. He was wrong, even if Yuuri had forgiven him. There were a lot of things that happened that night that he couldn’t understand, but at that moment the feeling of guilt towards what he did was the only thing that mattered, because it concerned Yuuri. How could he make it up to him? He thought it over, and after weighing out all the consequences, he hesitantly spoke: “ask me something.”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Ask me anything right now, and I’ll answer it as best as I can.” Victor spoke, the words again coming out before he truly realised the weight of them. But he made no move to take them back, but also had no intention of unbolting that door, or even looking in its direction.

“Oh… okay…” Yuuri answered, but a look of concern remained stuck on his face. For the next few minutes, Yuuri seemed to be turning things over. Realistically, Victor knew he wouldn’t be asked anything Yuuri already knew he couldn’t answer before, and yet… No, that was stupid, because Victor had full trust in Yuuri; complete, unadulterated trust. It’s because of that trust that Victor must trust that Yuuri believed him. So, Victor trusted him. 

Seeming to finally decide on something, Yuuri asked his question:

 

“Was it difficult?”

“…what do you mean?”

The palm of Yuuri’s hand laid flat against Victor’s chest. “To make the scarf, and Makkachin’s outfit… was it hard?”

Victor raised his head and watched Yuuri’s expression, and wondered if he could feel the thumping of his heart beneath his hand, or if he could hear the racing of his thoughts. He bit his lip for a moment, but eventually gave a shallow nod downwards. “Yes… it was.” He uttered, with every word weighing heavily on his lips.

“Were you pleased in the end?”

 

The truth was difficult. “…No.” 

“No.” Victor repeated. 

“ _No_ …” Victor grounded.

 

Yuuri raised his eyebrows. “Victor…”

“I… I want to make you a new one. A _better_ one.” 

“I don’t want another one.” Yuuri offered.

“You don’t?” Victor stared.

Yuuri shook his head firmly. “I don’t. I want the scarf that Victor made with all his heart, and I already have that; and it’s the most perfect gift I could have asked for.”

“…You mean it?”

“Of course. You made it, and so it’s perfect.”

“Perfect…?”

 

Victor made it, and so it was perfect?

“Perfect…” Yuuri insisted with a smile. His eyes were sewn with millions of starry skies. “Merry Christmas, Victor.”

“…Merry Christmas, Yuuri.” Victor smiled, squeezing his hands together to compel them to still.

Exactly when did those hands of his become useful for anything good?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the power of alcohol and communication is yet again victorious! but there are a lot of things going on here it seems. things may be getting a bit more interesting from here on... ☆
> 
> i emerge from the bushes. wow, check me out - i wrote a lot this time! i owe it though, since it's been two months and all. so, here's the game plan: im very much behind, so im skipping out valentines and all that, but hopefully the explanation given when we get to that point will justify all that. vicmas is coming though! indeed, it is coming... :)
> 
> i may change the rating because of this chapter, but im not sure... im kinda nervous about it for some reason. edits may be made too ☆
> 
> ☆ did someone say google translations? ☆:  
>  _Ka-wai-ee_ \- _kawaii_ \- **可愛い** : cute  
>  _Ie inu!_ \- _Ī inu!_ \- **いい犬!** : good dog!  
>  _Hai!_ \- **はい!** : yes!  
>  **ね** : _ne_ (i think it translates similarly to 'hey')  
>  **すごい** \- _sugoi_ : amazing  
>  **コレは何** \- _kore wa nani_ : what is this?  
>  **はい** \- _hai_ : yes  
>  **コンビニ** \- _konbini_ : convenience store  
>  **お姉さん** \- _onee-san_ : big sister  
>  _su-goi!_ \- _sugoi_ \- **すごい** : amazing  
>  _oishi_ \- **美味し** : delicious  
>  **どうぞ** \- _dōzo_ : here you go  
>  **いいえ** \- _Īe_ : no  
>  **ああ** \- _Ā_ : oh  
>  **おめでと** \- _Omedetō_ : congrats  
>  _ah-ri-ga-to_ \- _arigatō_ \- **ありがとう** : thanks  
>  **はいはい** \- _hai, hai_ : yes, yes  
>  **乾杯** / _kan-pai_ \- _kanpai_ : cheers!  
>  **何が**? - _nani ga?_ : what?  
>  **ぼく に ふれる… 僕 に キスしる** \- _Boku ni fureru… boku ni kisu shiru_ : touch me... kiss me.  
>  **やばい!** \- _yabai!_ : (literally:) dangerous!/(translates like:) this is bad!
> 
> apologies for being all over the place, but im trying to straighten things out. i'll probably be editing this chapter as well as some others for minor wording issues and such :)  
> ☆ Hope you enjoyed!! ☆ see you next time! ☆☆☆


	10. Christmas Day - Part 1: Blackheads and Chores

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri return from their Christmas Eve adventure to a Love Hotel, but despite Yuuri's insistance, Victor sees nothing special about the day ahead.

_‘...did you know it’s your birthday today?’_

(Huh?)

_‘Your birthday.’_

(Oh…)

_‘…tch. ‘Course you wouldn’t even remember that.’_

(Hm. Why don’t you go make yourself useful, huh?)

_‘Hah - screw you, V—'_

Victor’s eyes burst open, and found there to be a heavy weight on his chest. He couldn’t move. Hands blindly palmed around and felt nothing. Hissing echoed into Victor’s ears, and white noise clouded his vision.

No, stop it. Stop it. Pictures emerged from thick froth and tried to link themselves with garbled voices - Victor thwacked the sides of his skull with his palms.

 

By the morning, there was a light soreness on Victor’s head, like he had been hit with a sock filled with shell casings; what an unusual sensation it was. It was as if he was carrying a pillow full of lumpy cement on top of his head, and he couldn’t quite describe it in any other way. Was this some kind of illness? It couldn’t have helped that he had stayed awake for a good portion of the night, feeling around for Yuuri only to realise that _he_ was the weight he felt on his chest when he had first jerked up restlessly at unknown hours. 

Softened snoring came from the body on top of him, and Victor smiled lightly as he raised one of the hands that stiffly curled around Yuuri’s waist to smooth his bed-head fringe over and exposing his forehead. At doing this, Victor’s expression melted at the pure indulgence he was partaking in. Maybe Yuuri could clip his fringe back more often, oh Victor might just explode if that happened – it should be administered in small doses, or he would end up losing himself. He allowed Yuuri’s hair to fall back on itself and silently squealed to himself, curling his toes and biting his lip to suppress noise, at how much he was spoiling himself.

 

There was a gentle stirring against his body and Yuuri groaned lightly.

“ _Oh-haiyo-go-zai-masu,_ Yuuri.” Victor spoke quietly.

“Hmm, Victor… **おはよう** …” Yuuri muttered in his gravelly morning voice which made the hairs on the back of Victor’s neck tingle.

“Did you sleep well? A nice dream?”

“Mm-hm. Head hurts a little from drinking, but…” Yuuri drawled. The back of his hand raised to rub the corners of his eye. Mid-rub, he paused. Then, he yelped in excitement. With a start, Yuuri threw his hands on the bed and hoisted himself up to be level with Victor.

 

“It’s your birthday, Victor!” Yuuri beamed, his quiet state of drowsiness shaken out of his body. 

Victor blinked. 

“Your _birthday!_ ” Yuuri repeated, spreading his arms and tackling Victor in a hug that looped around his neck. 

Victor wasn’t sure whether to keep his hands glued to his sides or to stretch them over Yuuri’s shoulders and suspend them in the air. 

“Happy birthday, Victor.” Yuuri spoke so delicately and wholeheartedly that Victor couldn’t help but nod.

“… _Ah-ri-gato_ …” 

A flurry of sweet kisses rained on Victor’s face, and Victor felt himself sink.

 

When they had eventually peeled away from each other, Victor managed to retreat into the bathroom. He stood before the vanity, turned the mirror to face him, and pushed his skin from his cheeks outwards, experimenting with the tightness of his skin. He sighed to himself and pouted at his face in the mirror, which pouted back.

Using the mirror to look behind him, he saw that Yuuri had peered into the bathroom and was watching Victor push and pull his face about with an incredulous and yet amused expression. “What are you doing, Victor?”

Victor took a second to spin around. “Does my face look like it’s sagging, Yuuri?” 

Yuuri’s expression deepened as he furrowed his brows in confusion. “Sagging?”

“Yes! You know, like,” Victor hunched his shoulders and flopped forward, before straightening back up again. “Like that!”

A small chuckle breached Yuuri’s lips as he shook his head. “What was that? A zombie?”

“No, no.” Victor sighed. “As in… like it’s not firm.” 

“Firm?”

“Meaning tight - nice looking.”

Yuuri pushed up his glasses. “Firm, huh?”

“Is my face firm?” 

Yuuri’s eyes flitted up. “Your face?”

Victor had turned back to the mirror, pulling at his skin again. “Is it sagging? …like an old man?” He frowned at the mirror. Look, he was aging right before his own eyes! 

 

Yuuri stood behind him, glancing at the mirror before turning to poke at Victor’s cheek. “Hmm. Doesn’t seem broken to me.”

A smile broke onto Victor’s lips and he swivelled around to poke Yuuri’s cheek in return. “It’s the same here.”

 

Yuuri continued to smile gently before retaking a look of concern. “Why are you worried about things like that?”

Victor considered the question, rolling it around in his mind. Why was he concerned about his looks? Well, the logical answer would be what the majority of people would fear as a result of growing old – but that wouldn’t apply to Victor. If so, then what was it that drove Victor to be so conscious about sagging skin, wrinkles, blackheads, and all the other beauty concerns he has had ever since he wanted to remember? He couldn’t find any obvious answers that he could simply pluck from his brain to satisfy Yuuri’s query; most likely because he never really had to ask himself these types of questions before he met Yuuri, so he was unused to finding answers.

 

“I’m not sure…” Victor decided. It was something to do, at least.

A raise of an eyebrow. Maybe that wasn’t the right answer. Before Victor could say anything else, Yuuri tilted his head. “Do you enjoy it? Stuff like beauty care, I mean.”

Victor glanced at the mirror, and the one inside it glanced back. 

Enjoy…? 

“…I’m not sure.” Victor said again, and he felt quite ashamed at doing so. It was never a straight answer, was it?

 

There was a subtle shift in Yuuri’s face, which then renewed to a gentle expression. “I never really got into this kind of thing, so I suppose I wouldn’t really get it anyway.” He shrugged. “However you feel is fine; but just so you know, I always think you look great.”

Victor’s heart fluttered, like it always did when Yuuri gave him any form of compliment. 

“…and Victor?” Rounding his eyes, Victor saw Yuuri suspend his movements for a split moment before he stepped in to kiss Victor’s cheek before leaning into his ear, “…you’re not old. I’d say you’re… pretty perky.” 

Tremors shook down Victor’s spine. With a curling smile, which wobbled for a nanosecond, Yuuri turned to leave.

Waiting until Yuuri left in a stiff and harried shuffle, Victor watched Yuuri go.

Then he turned back to the mirror and brought his fingertip to poke at his cheek.

Perky...?

 

Once they had sufficiently freshened up and dressed for the day, they headed out. At first, Victor had thought that they had been confined in the room as the door refused to budge when he made his way to open it for Yuuri. Obviously, this led him to analyse the weakest spots of the door that could be kicked down and most efficiently wretch back Yuuri’s freedom. Just when he was about to bring his foot up, however, Yuuri called to his attention the fact that the room was locked because they still needed to pay. He watched as Yuuri tapped on another machine that was fixed into the wall near to where they had taken off their shoes the night before, and fed some crinkled bills into its mouth after the voice from inside it offered verbal prompts. Soon after, Yuuri pressed down the door handle and pushed it open, blinking at Victor’s stance. 

He straightened himself out soon after, and followed Yuuri’s heels, eyeing his hand until he sought the prime window opportunity to slew his own hand towards it before cautiously cupping them together. In response, Yuuri steadily intertwined their fingers. 

 

Hand in hand, the two emerged out of the love hotel, which was admittedly a lot less daunting and magical-looking in the daylight. It must have rained during the night, as the buildings dripped, the ground was dampened and the air was toned with petrichor. Yuuri breathed in the fresh air deeply, sighing out and leaning himself ever so slightly into Victor’s frame, whisking him away from his thoughts and pulling him back down to centre on the feeling of Yuuri’s warmth. 

They conversed aimlessly, talk of rain, champagne, and their missing Makkachin. “I do hope he wasn’t lonely…” Victor frowned.

“I’m sure he’ll be just the same as he always is: hungry.”

A short chuckle eased Victor’s heart somewhat. “We should walk him after breakfast.” 

“Mm-hm. Oh, speaking of breakfast – I’m making it.” Yuuri announced, and Victor was taken aback, but managed to catch himself from blurting anything out too fast.

“You are…? But…” Victor furrowed his brow.

“I want to make you breakfast - a birthday breakfast for the birthday boy, right?” Yuuri teased, knocking his shoulder against Victor’s and with that Victor’s mind became all the hazier. 

“Oh…” Victor shut his mouth and felt his lips tighten.

Yuuri carried on: “I don’t want you to have to do any chores today, Victor - consider today your day off.”

“B…but…” Victor trailed; his voice had come out so quietly that he doubted he was even heard. His mouth wound itself closed again. A day off, he said. Yuuri’s hold was tender and earnest, the soft curl of his hand informed in everything that Yuuri was and everything that Victor would never be. Today of all days to have a day off, Victor resigned. 

His mouth smiled; if it would make Yuuri happy, Victor would take on the duly task of having nothing at all to do on that day of all possible days.

 

When the two eventually reached the safety of Yuuri’s apartment, there was a heavy bark that bellowed from within as Victor touched his hand on the handle. They jolted back for a moment, quickly looking towards each other as the barking continued. Uneased, Victor rattled at the handle before creaking the door open. 

Makkachin, who appeared to be in-position at the entryway, quickly snapped up and hit his tail against the floor as the two reared their heads around the door. The dog bounced over, softly yipping and padding his front paws on their legs. 

“Aw, Makkachin.” Victor cooed, lowing himself and ruffling the dog’s body. It seemed as if Makkachin had snapped out of that strange state that he was in, but Victor still felt a need to be concerned. Makkachin had never barked as loudly or as aggressively as he had just done, he was always such a gentle canine; could it be that Makkachin had gone mad in the hours that he was left alone? 

Victor turned his head at the sound of Yuuri’s voice breaking through, and saw him squealing as the dog slobbered at his cheek and rapidly swished his tail around. 

…No – Makkachin was far too strong and adored to deteriorate in such a short space of time. So then, what was it?

 

Victor continued to ponder over this as he slipped his feet into his slippers and mindlessly drifted into the kitchen and fiddled with the settings on the rice cooker. He soon had fell back down to earth when Yuuri began to steer him away.

“I told you, Victor, no chores.” Yuuri reminded.

Victor blinked, feet glued to where Yuuri had positioned him and, not knowing what else he could do, raised his hands in yearning toward the rice cooker. 

Yuuri chuckled, clasping Victor’s hands in his own. “Come on, Victor. Just _one_ day? It’s your birthday, and you work so hard.”

Victor made his expression relax. Right - he did decide on allowing it, after all. Hearing Yuuri say those things, however, rung foreign in Victor’s ears; while he had been told previously that he worked hard by Yuuri, it never made sense in his mind that because of his hard work that he should then not do any work at all. Surely, if he worked hard he would be given more to do? That would be most efficient. Unlike Yuuri, Victor did not deserve any breaks – Yuuri didn’t owe anything to him. 

“You work harder than I do.” Victor deflected.

Yuuri shook his head. “Victor…” 

“You would deserve this more.” He insisted. 

“Oh, Victor,” Yuuri said, his mouth was smiling but his eyes were sombre, a dim sparkle set within them. “Victor, I wish you’d give yourself more credit.”

With his argument thrown off-course, Victor’s expression furrowed. Before he could read Yuuri’s expression further, arms had curled around his waist and he found himself ushered into Yuuri’s embrace. Surrounded by Yuuri’s warmth, Victor found that he couldn’t say anything, and instead simply stood and tucked in head into Yuuri’s neck. They rocked in each other’s arms for a length of time that Victor couldn’t find within himself to measure. 

 

Eventually, Yuuri began to speak. “Let me do this for you, okay?”

Shallowly, Victor nodded. 

A kiss planted itself on Victor’s cheek, and Yuuri smiled at him after some short distance was put between their bodies. 

Victor still didn’t understand, but dedicated himself to his word.

 

At Yuuri’s suggestion, Victor resided to leaning over the balcony outside the front door so that he wouldn’t be tempted to give himself chores to do. From there, he could count the number of doors on their apartment level, and take in the crisp morning breeze as twittering birds braved the harsh weathers to explore and sing. 

Victor could see the twitching of curtains and blinds when his eyes drifted over. Unusual, because it was rare for much movement from the neighbours, as most people tended to keep to themselves; yet there it was every few minutes: the twitching. Perhaps they were waiting on family members, and were looking outside their windows in anticipation for their arrival – it was Christmas Day, after all. Yes, that could possibly be true… if they weren’t flickering their curtains in a secretive way, taking the shortest peek they could before retreating back. 

 

Hearing a creak, Victor reared his head to see Takamura-san creaking her door open and manoeuvring her body, leaning out while resting her hand against the door-frame. Her eyes clearly targeted him, and as soon as she realised that she had his attention she waved him over. 

“Takamura-san, _oh-hai-yo-goh-zai-mas_.” Victor greeted, but not without a slight unease in his voice that managed to sneak through.

“ **おはよう** , Victor-san.” Takamura-san returned, giving a short nod. 

 

As Victor decided whether or not to ask about the other neighbours, Takamura-san piped up again with intent. “Were you and Katsuki-san out last night?” 

Slowly, Victor nodded. “We went to a love-hotel—”

“Shh…!” Takamura-san put a finger to her lips, the look on her face anxious at first but then relented as if she didn't know why she made the face in the first place.

Victor copied her, finger to lips, but the incredulous look on his face must have let her know that he had no clue why he had to be quiet.

She looked as if she was about to raise her voice, but then shook her head as if it didn’t even matter. “Victor-san, it’s about last night…”

Victor tried the only thing that he could think of. “Is it because we went to a love-hotel—?”

Again, Takamura-san shook her head quickly. “No, no, it is not about the… l-love-hotel… I know it is not the time to say this, but everyone was very concerned about you and Katsuki-san. We still are.”

The expression on his face deepened. “What’s the problem?”

 

Takamura-san looked as if she was trying to find the right words to say, or any words that could accurately iterate what she was thinking about. 

Victor pressed on. “Takamura-san?”

She pressed her hand up to her mouth as she held her other to her hip, struggling with something. “Oh, goodness…” 

Victor found himself squeezing his hands together, his stomach fizzing up into his throat. 

Eventually, she seemed to calm herself, and grounded her words: “Last night, there was--”

“—Victor!” 

 

Victor perked up, swinging his body in the direction of the voice. The hairs at the very back of his neck strained. Every bone in his body froze in place, his muscles contracting against one another. His very being was burning from the inside out.

Yuuri had swung his body around the door frame, and beamed across to him before noticing Takamura-san and standing himself up properly. “Oh. **おはよう** , Takamura-san…” he then mumbled bashfully, nodding his head down.

“ **おはよう** , Katsuki-san…” Takamura-san bowed her head solemnly. 

After a few beats of silence, Yuuri spoke again: “Breakfast is ready, Victor.”

“I’ll be right there.” Victor said immediately afterwards, nodding towards Yuuri who re-entered the apartment after a few departing words between him and Takamura-san. 

 

Victor could feel his heart pounding in his throat, his stomach following not far behind; his mind furiously buzzing and beating at his skull. Just as Victor turned towards the door, a hand gripped onto his shoulder—  
(a grip on his shoulder)  
\--and in lurching his body away, Victor felt a creak. 

 

Widening his eyes, he snapped to Takamura-san, his feet stuttering as he backed away. “S-sorry! Sorry! I’m… I’m sorry…!”

Mouth hanging open slightly, Takamura-san’s hands reached again, but retreated. She quickly swung her front door open. “No, no. Victor-san— Victor-san, **大丈夫だよ** …!”

Victor’s breath heaved from his chest, and he squeezed his hands together tightly. “ _Hon-to-ni… goh-men-nai-sai_.” 

“V-victor-san--!”

 

The door flung shut, and only the soft rattling from the kitchen kept Victor’s knees from giving way. 

The hissing of the kettle chased into his ears.

Today… of all _possible_ days.

He turned around, and bolted the door’s lock.

 

Open wide. Victor complied.

The fluffiness of the bite of pancake laid like a pillow on Victor’s tongue, and he swooned. “Ah, Yuuri’s cooking is the greatest!”

Bashfully, Yuuri withdrew the fork from Victor’s lips and cut up another bite-sized portion from Victor’s stack of pancakes. 

“ _Ahh_ …” Victor parted his lips again.

Feeding Victor another bite, Yuuri’s face eased. “I feel like I’m spoiling you a little bit.” 

While chewing, Victor raised an eyebrow. 

Yuuri then gently scrunched his nose, grinning; “ **冗談だ** ”.

 

“…Even so, you do tend to feed me a lot.” Victor pointed out when he’d finished.

“Eh?” Yuuri reacted.

“Things like apple slices, Christmas cookies, these pancakes…” Victor listed. 

“Oh…” Yuuri flushed. “I suppose I do…”

“I enjoy it.” Victor then said to appease, but it was true. “I enjoy eating when it’s with you.”

Yuuri watched him with those glittering eyes. Then, his eyes drifted and he lifted the fork to Victor’s lips again.

With a smile, Victor opened his mouth to another bite of pancakes. 

 

“Don’t you want to take Makkachin on a walk?” 

Victor considered Yuuri as he scrubbed at the dishes in the sink; Victor himself had withdrawn to loiter by the stove, holding his hands behind his back to prevent them from reaching out for the sponge. “I want to, but I don’t think it’s best…” Victor explained, “it’s cold out today.”

“Well, we could always dress him in those cute outfits – they could warm him up?” Yuuri proposed, turning his head to address him.

“Maybe, but we wouldn’t know it would be enough.” Victor continued. 

Yuuri paused. “That’s true…” he seemed to be contemplating something, then nodded. “Okay then, if you think it’s best.”

Victor nodded, and felt the pressure built up in his chest release in a relieved sigh.

 

He was doing a good job at ignoring the seething iniquity that frothed like bile at the back of his throat.

He really was.

That was the truth…

That was the truth, right?

 

Dropping the sponge back into the soapy water, Yuuri turned his body round and casually folded his arms with a smile. “So, what do you want to do, **誕生日の男子**?” he tilted his head.

“…I think I might have an idea.” Victor tapped his chin.

 

“…you just want to watch movies all day?”

Victor nodded up from the piles of DVD cases he had spread around himself.

Yuuri furrowed his brow. “You don’t want to go out and get lunch, or go to the park?”

“ _ee-ya_ – I want to do this.” Victor shoved some case towards Yuuri, having not looked at it himself but knowing he’d enjoy it if Yuuri would.

“All day?”

“Hai.” Victor beamed. “And,” he then continued, standing up and directing over to another pile he had set out, “I want to play games too.”

Yuuri reached for one of the selected board games. “…‘ _Go_ ’?” 

“Interesting, right?”

A raise of an eyebrow. “You know how to play?”

Victor shifted onto his knees. “…no. But, how difficult could it possibly be?”

A short breath of laughter. “All right, then. Let’s start with this.”

Victor clapped his hands together. Thank goodness it was working out. “Okay!” 

 

“ _Su-goi_ , this game really is fun!” Victor enthused while Yuuri’s jaw was nearly hitting the floor. It took a few turns after Yuuri’s explanation of the rules for Victor to gain comprehension of the game, but eventually Victor believed he had become competent at it. 

Black counters dominated, swarming around the trembling white counters at every corner of the board. Yuuri’s eyes scrutinised it in perplexity. “I don’t think I can go anymore…”

“Hm?” 

“You’ve taken over so much territory; if I make any more plays, I’ll be stamped out before I know it.” 

“Ah… so, I win?” Victor gleamed.

“Hmm…” Yuuri squinted his eyes. Searching the board before him, Yuuri seemed to level between a confliction only for his expression to abruptly shift as if something had come along to possess him. “ **いいえ** …” 

Victor blinked. “Ah, Yuuri…?”

With purpose filling his movements, Yuuri grasped onto a white counter. His vision focused. “I won’t give in that easily…!” he declared, marking his counter on a blank intersection scattered with opposing black counters. 

Victor was taken aback. Surely Yuuri knew that he was in jeopardy by making such an insecure play, and yet he carried it out all the same. His eyes rounded and fell upon the playful determinism that was set into Yuuri’s. Victor’s mouth quirked upwards – that kind of recklessness was only to be expected from someone like Yuuri, who has always had the freedom to do so. Picking up a black counter, Victor already knew exactly how he could chase that white counter right into a corner and consume its stance of lonely insubordination until all that remained would be a sea of all-encompassing black. And yet… his fingers held the black counter, feeling the weight of it. And yet… Victor’s gaze drifted up to Yuuri, who patiently anticipated his move.

Victor smiled, and placed himself away from the flashy, white counter of earnest in hopes that it would grow.

 

But in the end, Victor still won.

 

Their minds buzzing from the intensity of ‘ _Go_ ’, they both simultaneously resided to binge on miscellaneous movies. Victor was in what he believed to be the prime position – his head rested on Yuuri’s chest as he sat between his legs, with Makkachin lolling his body over his lap. 

The film Victor had chosen to play rolled on Yuuri’s television, paying them no mind as it thrust them into the wide world that unfolded rapidly before them. Victor could hear the soft hums of Yuuri’s amusement, and didn’t seem to mind when Victor made quiet commentary. 

While the movie droned on, despite that he was captivated by the colours and effects, Victor ended up becoming distracted by the humming of Yuuri’s chest. Steady and strong, the beating of Yuuri’s heart thumped against his ears like the most masterful symphony – Victor could never overestimate the calm that the repetition brought him, especially as he felt himself getting lulled into a deep floating sensation. 

He didn’t remember getting pulled under, though.

 

(But he did remember the cold.)

 

Shooting his eyes open, both hands came to viciously slap at the sides of his head. 

His chest heaved fiercely, gathering and pulling in all the air he could muster before forcing it out again. 

It took him a few moments of panic to recognise the weight on his lap and the warmth underneath him. 

“…Yuuri?” Victor uttered, only to be responded to with the faint rumble of snoring. He raised his gaze to the television to see the scroll of white text against a black background. From the corner of his eye, he saw the perking of Makkachin’s ears, followed by the stirring of his head. Quickly, Victor petted at his head, lulling him back to sleep.

Blinking over, his chest tangled, Victor decided to lie still until Yuuri stirred and mumbled about how the movie had ended.

 

When Yuuri had finally risen, Victor shut his eyes and listened to Yuuri’s yawns. Moments later, Victor felt the parting of his bangs from his forehead, and fluttering pair of lips pressing against his temple. After Victor cracked his eyes open, Yuuri jerked slightly in surprise; “Ah! **ごめん** , Victor – did I wake you?”

A misunderstanding that went uncorrected wasn’t a lie, right? “No, don't worry.” he said anyway.

 

“Oh, the movie finished.” Yuuri noticed. 

Victor hummed.

“Do you want to watch—”

“No…” Victor shook his head. Grounding his mind just a tad, he juddered and blurted out after himself to elaborate on his rude interruption: “I… I mean, perhaps we should have a little break…”

“Oh…” 

Hesitantly, with a weighted mind, Victor perked his head up. “Yuuri…?” Uncertain, he looked up to Yuuri and searched his expression. “Could I… could I ask something of you?”

Yuuri blinked, then nodded all so suddenly and quickly. “Yes, yes of course.”

Victor bit his lip. “Could you talk to me about home?”

After that, Victor zoned in on every seemingly-subtle movement on Yuuri’s face; from the quirk of his lip, to the slight frown of his eyebrow. “Home?” 

“ _Your_ home – in Hasetsu. Your mother, your father, your sister - could you tell me what it’s like?”

The sparkle in Yuuri’s eyes presented itself again, deep and enriched and unreachable. “What Hasetsu’s like? Ah, it’s quite a boring town, to be honest.”

“Not if you lived there.” Victor quickly objected. “…please?” he then leaned his head onto Yuuri’s shoulder and waited. 

 

Victor wasn’t looking at Yuuri’s face, but the soft huff from his nose and the warm feeling of Yuuri’s fingers threading through his gave him enough inference. 

From that, he pushed everything further away to make room for more of Yuuri’s stories.

And so, Yuuri began to talk - “Hasetsu is a seaside town, but we’re more well known for our hot-springs – well, we _were_ until most of them shut down. My family owns the only hot-springs left - Yu-topia Katsuki. Ah, that name was what the kids at school called me. That, and… other things… but that was the one that was the most… neutral, I suppose? My school was pretty small…” – and Victor began to listen, and began to imagine.

…and maybe, just maybe, part of him began to wish a little bit, too.

 

By the afternoon, he was restless. While Yuuri cleaned up the spread of movies and board games, Victor had once again fled into the bathroom, leaving himself to contemplate without the temptation of reaching for film cases with his otherwise idle hands. He still badly wanted to help Yuuri, even if he said he wouldn’t.

He watched the him in the mirror pull the skin out from his cheeks; he’d become pale – a discolouring of his flesh that seemed to become more pronounced the more he scrutinised it. 

Victor frowned… what was he even doing? His hands trembled on either side of his face. What on earth was he doing? Yes, he always had to be doing something; something always needed to be done, and so he’d always need to be doing something - where was the sense in not doing something? But at the same time, was there any point to pulling at his skin?

…maybe not. 

Maybe not… 

Victor frowned at the mirror. 

And so, Victor busied himself again, distracting from the feeling of restlessness that settled into his bones.

 

It came back again, that rigid feeling, when he came out to hear Yuuri fumbling around in the kitchen. In turning the corner, Victor encountered an ecstasy of floundering, of drawers slamming shut and things behind pushed and shoved, and a flustered looking Yuuri bracing against the counters.

Before Victor could say a word, Yuuri quickly readjusted himself by folding his arms over his chest and leaning into the counter, slipping slightly in the process, but then catching himself again and retaking the position. “Oh hey, Victor.”

“…hey?” Victor squinted.

Yuuri darted his eyes. “Um… I’ll be starting to make dinner soon?”

Victor tilted his head. “Can I help?”

Automatically, Yuuri shook his head. “N-no—I mean, uh, I’ve… I’ve already told you no chores today.”

“But… I…” Victor frowned. Yuuri was stubborn, Victor had quickly learned – so he shouldn’t really have expected the answer to change. He sighed. “…I know…”

Yuuri’s expression shifted at Victor’s reply. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh?” Victor reacted. “Um...”

Yuuri considered Victor’s answer, or lack thereof. “…do you want to help because you want to, or is it because you feel like you need to?”

Victor was taken aback. His brow furrowed with confusion at the question, and couldn’t seem to make sense of it. 

In the next instance, Yuuri looked like he was about to say something, but his expression melted down. “Never mind, Victor. Don’t worry about it.”

Victor felt like he should be asking questions, or explaining himself for something, but nothing of sense came forth. 

 

After a beat of silence, Yuuri gave a considering smile. “…Victor,” he began, “you said you wanted to make fried chicken for Christmas, right?”

A nod.

“…well, as it just so happens, that’s what I’m making. But since I don’t have much experience with it… maybe I _do_ need help after all--”

“Really!?” Victor beamed. “I can help!?”

Letting out a hum, Yuuri nodded. “If you want to help, that is--”

“--of _course_ I do!” Victor insisted. 

 

Soon enough, Victor was almost in a frenzy at the opportunity to help make dinner. Yuuri laughed and smiled at his excitement, steadying Victor’s shaking hands with a touch of his hand to his forearm.

“You enjoy cooking, don’t you, Victor?” Yuuri pointed out as he arranged different glass bowls. 

After a short consideration, Victor gave an affirming nod. “I suppose I do.” 

“…did you understand why I didn’t want you to do chores today?” Yuuri then asked.

An answer was formed as he scanned the ingredients on the counter: “…I understand that I was because you wanted me to have a day off…”

“Right…” Yuuri urged.

“Only, I don’t…” Victor hesitated, and looked to Yuuri, who nodded to him. “I don’t… understand why I _need_ one.”

Tenderness graced Yuuri’s face, interspersed with a hint of a penitence that Victor probably wasn’t supposed to see; but he did – Victor noticed everything, even if he didn't understand it. “Everyone needs a day off sometimes.” Yuuri then said indirectly.

Words would not come, as anything he thought of was quickly thrown in and locked away. Victor shook his head. Silently, Yuuri raised a hand to rub at Victor’s back, only to flinch his hand away when Victor tensed up, which worked in confusing him further because Yuuri’s touch was always so soft and warm and safe – why was that his reaction? 

“Are you okay, Victor?” came the sweeping sweet voice.

Victor nodded. “Yes… yes, I am. I don’t know why I’m like this all of a sudden.” 

 

There was a few beats of silence, broken only by the clinging of bowls and the heavy deliberation Victor felt radiate from Yuuri. 

“If… if you’d want to just relax after we eat…” Yuuri spoke carefully, each word coming out as if they were excessively quarantined before being said.

“What do you mean?” Victor responded, because despite what his answer would be, he knew there was something Yuuri had on his mind. 

“E-eh, um…” Yuuri teetered, nervously fidgeting. “No particular reason, it’s just if you wanted to have a quiet night instead of staying up or drinking… we can.” 

“Hmm…” Victor considered. That sealed it – Yuuri was hiding something, and very badly too. “Staying up? Drinking? We do that often, don’t we?” he approached.

“…I-I guess, but… if you were not in the mood, then…” Yuuri struggled. 

 

Victor always felt bad questioning Yuuri, he was just so poor at hiding his emotions from him that he couldn’t help but catch on. In this case, though, Victor just couldn’t pinpoint what Yuuri was concealing; and if there was no foreseeable end result, there was certainly no point in pursuing it any further, especially since he now knew how uncomfortable the pressure was for Yuuri, and hurting Yuuri in any way would never be Victor’s intentions. So, he shrugged. “I’m not in a bad mood; I already feel better now I get to make dinner with you.”

Yuuri searched him, cautious but anticipating. “You’re sure? Everything’s good?” 

“ _Hai_ , I’m sure.” Victor smiled – whatever Yuuri was hiding, he hoped his answer would soothe his concerns. But it was also true, of course.

A surge of reassurance rushed to Yuuri’s face, and he smiled with a firm nod to himself. “Okay, all right – that’s good. I mean, I’m glad you’re okay.”

Victor own smile replicated his, as he too was relieved at for once being able to qualm Yuuri’s worries. One day, he hoped to be able to be someone who could ease Yuuri’s heart in the same way that Yuuri did for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yuuri may be stubborn, but victor can always gets what he wants from yuuri in the end ☆
> 
> and safe - it's not two months yet!  
> there will be two parts to 'Christmas Day', this being the first, and will hopefully bring more things to light. apologies for the wait, but hopefully (hopefully) this next part won't take me too long to finish ^^'' 
> 
> ☆translations!☆:
> 
>  _Oh-haiyo-go-zai-masu_ \- _Ohayōgozai mazu_ \- **おはようございまず** : good morning (formal)  
>  **おはよう** \- _Ohayō_ : good morning (casual)  
>  _ah-ri-ga-to_ \- _arigatō_ \- **ありがとう** : thanks  
>  **大丈夫だよ...!** \- _Daijōbudayo_ : it's okay...!  
>  _Hon-to-ni… goh-men-nai-sai_ \- _hontōni gomen ai sai_ \- **本当に ごめんあいさい** : I'm really sorry...!  
>  **冗談だ** \- _Jōdanda_ : just kidding  
>  _ee-ya_ \- _Iya_ \- いや: (literally:) disagreeable/(translates like:) nope  
>  _su-goi_ \- _sugoi_ \- **すごい** : amazing  
>  **いいえ** \- _Īe_ : no  
>  **ごめん** \- _gomen_ : sorry  
>  _hai_ \- **はい** : yes
> 
> i'll notify here if i make any edits/corrections to this or any other chapter ☆  
> i hope you enjoyed! :) ☆☆

**Author's Note:**

> okay, here we go, my first multi-chaptered fic! well, kind of. this may end up being more like a set of drabbles, but there will be an over-arching plot! there will be development, and revelations, and flashbacks - everything will be revealed eventually ☆  
> this is basically a non-angsty Mafia AU fic, i suppose? (jk, there will most likely be at least a lil bit of angst)  
> this fic's premise is largely based off the manga 'Gokushufudou: The Way of the House Husband', which i highly recommend!
> 
> this whole fic is a v belated birthday present to one of my friends - she's already unwittingly given me a lot of material to break everyone's souls with :)))))))
> 
> so, while i do have an over-arching plot in mind for this fic, there is quite a lot of flexibility at the moment, so if anyone has an idea in mind that they'd like to see the Mafia-Turned-Househusband or his family do, feel free to comment it! ☆☆
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy! ☆☆☆


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